Shattered
by Adriana1
Summary: COMPLETE After leaving Hogwarts, Hermione has become a powerful healer. As Severus Snape re-enters her life, things will never be the same. A story of Love and War. SS-HG AN: The sequel has been posted and updated!
1. Prologue: Tired

Author's Note: This story was completed in May 2003, one month before the release of Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix. For that reason, there are elements to this story that are not in keeping with the latest canon, although they are minor points (and they're rectified in the Sequel to this story). So please bear that in mind as you read this.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe, I'm just visiting. I only own the plot.

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Prologue: Tired

Severus Snape was very, very tired.

In fact, he was so tired that he couldn't be bothered to disguise it from the rest of the staff. If it hadn't been for the fact that he was currently attending a mandatory Staff Meeting, he would have stayed in his rooms in the dungeons. As he looked at Madam Poppy Pomfrey with bleary eyes, she clucked at him, "Really Severus . . . shouldn't you be resting?"

He gathered together enough of his old-self to glare at her. "Why stop there, Poppy? Why don't I go on holiday and get a nice suntan while I'm at it?"

"That's my boy," Poppy chuckled.

She turned back to Professor McGonagall. "As I was saying," she said in a faux-loud voice, "I think we should speak with Albus about Severus. He can't hold out much longer. The Death Eaters' revels are getting more and more violent and I fear for his life. Last night I had to pull out every bag of tricks I know, just to get him in relative working order again."

"There's no need to talk about me as if I wasn't here." Snape growled. "And I'm not deaf."

"I'm sorry, we didn't notice," Minerva stated dryly. "However, if we could ever count on you to be halfway civil, we would have included you in the conversation. Face it, Severus. Last night took a lot out of you and you're of no use to us if you're half a cripple and exhausted, to boot. It will only make you vulnerable to mistakes and we all know that a mistake at this stage of the game could prove fatal."

"True, true," he reluctantly conceded. They were seated in Albus Dumbledore's office and Snape had commandeered his favorite chair by the fire. It was overstuffed and a bit worn, but so comfortable that Severus was having trouble staying awake. His mind began to wander and he thought about the events of the previous evening.

The meeting with Voldemort had been particularly odious. The Dark Lord had been in a celebratory mood, which meant death and mayhem all around. He had begun the evening by bringing in two young muggle men and, after casting an Imperius, had chuckled while watching them perform fellatio on a very well-endowed Lucius Malfoy. Snape had fought to keep the bile from rising in his throat, but things only got worse after that. By the end of the evening, he'd been forced to rape a young Muggle girl and had watched impassively as Malfoy had tortured and mutilated her before killing her. It had taken all of Snape's fortitude not to step in and mercifully cast the Killing Curse on her. When Voldemort became bored with the muggles, he turned his wand on his Death Eaters. He had been particularly hard on Severus, most likely because Snape had a high tolerance for pain and had refused to cry out, despite his Master's demands. While the Dark Lord admired his mental strength, his impertinence had been punished and Snape had been found outside the dungeons by Madam Pomfrey. She had almost depleted her potions stores, trying to heal the various physical and magical wounds that had been inflicted upon him.

He was so very, very tired of it all.

Albus kept assuring him that it was important to The Cause that he continue with his activities as a Double Spy, but Severus felt a sense of hopelessness that threatened to overwhelm him. If only he could get a good night's sleep, not that it would have really improved his situation. In his deepest fantasies, he would leave this place and fly far away, never to be found and never to return.

He snorted.

_'Fat chance, Snape'_, he thought. Voldemort would hunt him down to the ends of the earth before killing him in the most drawn-out, painful way imaginable.

Not for the first time, he wished for a different life.

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Her alarm went off with a nerve-wracking shriek and Hermione bolted upright in her bed. Damn! Why was it that only the most insistent, obnoxious alarm clock could wake her up in the morning? Her mother had once gotten her a wind-by-hand alarm clock with a gentle sound, but that useless contraption had only lasted a week before her mother had resorted to standing in the doorway and screaming at her to wake up. Mum always said that heavy-sleeping was unladylike.

It was a good thing that being ladylike was not the least bit important to Hermione.

Stumbling out of bed, she stopped short and realized that she had fallen asleep in her clothes again. She had been on call last night and she'd barely been able to make it through her door, before falling into a deep, hard sleep. Since graduating from Edinburgh University of Magical Medicine six months previously, she'd kept up a grueling schedule of patient rounds and clinical research. She rented a small flat in London, but really, she only slept there every other night. Other then that, she spent little to no time in her apartment.

She staggered to her kitchen and conjured a mug of hot, black coffee. She knew that making it the old fashioned way tasted better, but she was too exhausted to care.

She was so very, very tired.

Sitting on her living room couch, Hermione gazed upon the photographs perched upon her bookshelves. They were a mixture of muggle and wizard photographs, some of her parents, a couple of Ron and Harry in Quidditch uniforms and her very favorite- the three of them on the It had been their last day at Hogwarts. She smiled as she gazed upon their images. She was in between the boys and they'd just looked up from reading their certificates when Colin Creevy had snapped the picture. The photo caught them in a spontaneous moment of carefree joy, probably the last they were to have for a very long time.

Voldemort had become more active and more vicious after they had graduated, prompting both Ron and Harry to become Aurors. Molly Weasley had been beside herself, but the Dark Lord took it even worse. It had been his fervent dream to kill Harry before he left Hogwarts as he knew that the longer The-Boy-Who-Lived actually _lived_, the stronger his powers would become. He'd lashed out and his Death Eaters had gone on several killing sprees. One day, despite the fact that Harry's Hogsmeade house was heavily warded, he'd found a handwritten parchment and black rose sitting on his bed. The note was a basic warning to enjoy the good times while he could because The Dark Lord was coming for him. Harry said it was only a matter of time before he had to face Voldemort again. He had argued with Cornelius Fudge that they had to take the initiative and strike first, but the Ministry of Magic would not acknowledge Voldemort's threat, despite all the outward signs. To Harry, they were just a bunch of yellow cowards who were only interested in maintaining their own power. Sometimes, he told Hermione, he wondered who the enemy really was.

The last time Hermione had seen Harry, she had been struck by the profound change in him. While he had always carried the weight of wizard-world responsibility gracefully, it was as if he'd completely run out of will. He didn't seem to have any life at all, although Hermione wasn't one to judge. He'd once told her that he could never fall in love, get married and have children while Voldemort was still in the world. Hermione suspected that he was deeply depressed, but because of her own ball-breaking schedule, she didn't have the time to look after him as she had at Hogwarts. Without her constant nagging and tender loving care, Harry seemed to withdraw further and further into himself. Ron, who despite his temper was amazingly mentally healthy, tried to help, but was powerless against the tide of Harry's innate despair.

Hermione picked herself off the couch to get ready for work, then remembered it was Saturday and she had the first day off she'd had in over two months. She sighed, wondering how she was going to spend her "free" time. 'Might as well go back to sleep,' she thought. Merlin knew how long it would be before she'd have the freedom to sleep in again.

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Despite his fatigue, Snape found himself making up a list of potion ingredients for his lab and for Poppy's depleted stores. Frowning, he looked at his pocket watch and calculated that he had about two hours before his private meeting with Albus. It was early November and the air had begun to chill. He pulled on a thick wool cloak to go over his robes, walked over to the fireplace and throwing a pinch of floo powder, he said, "The Three Broomsticks".

He found himself walking down the familiar quaint main street of Hogsmeade and noted with disgust that several of the Hogwarts students were running around, wreaking adolescent havoc on his quiet afternoon. Sneering, he opened his mouth to take away house points, only to shut it when he realized that he really didn't have the energy. He listlessly made his way down the street to the apothecary.

As he rounded his last corner, he was mildly surprised to see Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey coming out of what appeared to be a women's clothing shop. He smiled discreetly to himself. Despite his very snarky exterior, he had always had a very soft spot for Minerva and Poppy. Professor McGonagall had stuck by him professionally, when parents and students had complained about his "teaching methods" and they had taken to insulting each other for pleasure sport in recent years. They'd both enjoyed pretending that they disliked each other, it was a fun game in front of the students. And Poppy had fussed over him like a mother since he'd been a young boy at Hogwarts.

_"Oh how The Dunderheads would be surprised to know I actually have friends,"_ he thought to himself.

Minerva and Poppy didn't see him and as he made his way across the street to greet them, he froze in his tracks.

With several loud, audible pops, a group of twelve to fifteen Death Eaters had Apparated into the middle of the street. People began running and screaming in all directions.

The Death Eaters seemed oblivious to the chaos around them. They merely pointed their wands at Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey.

Then all hell broke loose.

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Hermione was sitting in a half lotus position in her flat, facing the large picture window, which looked out to the West. After years of studying transcendental meditation, she was still amazed at the feeling of her mind disconnecting from her body as she began her deep, slow breathing. She had begun the practice years ago, because she'd read that people who meditated needed less sleep and had better concentration. She thought it would help with her school performance. What she hadn't counted on were the wonderful side effects, the feelings of love and belonging and an understanding that her mind was limitless. She'd also discovered that it nurtured her spiritual self, but first she had to discover that she _had_ a spiritual self! Not that many people noticed.

She was so deep in her concentration that she didn't hear the soft sound emanating from around her front door. Had she opened her eyes then, she would have been amazed to see a small black snake slither from under the door and make his way across the hardwood floor, pausing at her left hand. He coiled himself tightly, and raising his small head, he regarded her with what could only be described as a thoughtful look . . . thoughtful for a snake anyway.

The darkness in Hermione's mind had just yielded to a vortex of multiple colours when she felt a smooth, slick rope curling around her left arm. While her mind jolted completely back to her body in an instant, it took a few seconds for her to open her startled eyes. A black snake, about twelve inches long, had coiled himself about her arm and was looking up at her, straight in the eye. Her first thought was that this snake projected some sort of higher understanding. Before she could wrap her mind around that silly thought, she blinked, and as she did so, she found a thin, elegant hand clutching her arm where the snake had once been.

"Dr. Granger."

Looking into the bottomless black eyes of Severus Snape, she felt his warm breath on her face.

"You are urgently needed at Hogwarts."

Before she could reply, he stood her up, held his hands to her shoulders and with a soft popping sound, they were gone.

_To be continued . . . _

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Author's Note: This is the first fan-fic I ever wrote. I hope you like it.


	2. Chapter 2: Soul

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com 

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"To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."   
~Albus Dumbledore, from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Go! upon thy wing arise,  
Plumed by quick energies,  
Mount in circles up the skies:  
And I will bless thy winged passion,  
Help with words thine exaltation,  
And, like a bird of rapid feather,  
Outlaunch thee, Soul, upon the ether. 

~ From the poem "Soul and Body" by St. Gregory Nazianzen, the Theologian 

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Chapter 2: Soul 

  
In the aftermath of Madam Pomfrey's death, Severus Snape slipped quietly from the room. Dumbledore had whispered to Hermione that they were going to have a meeting with some of the staff to discuss the day's events. "The students have all been confined to their respective common rooms. They'll want to know what's going on, so I'm gathering everyone together in the Great Hall." He sighed. "I remember the first time I had to remind the children of the evil in our world. It hasn't gotten any easier since Cedric Diggory." 

"They're not completely sheltered, Headmaster," said Hermione. Dumbledore allowed himself a small smile. "Don't you think it's time you called me Albus? All my friends do, you know." 

For the first time in ages, Hermione felt her mouth twitch in a returning smile. "Albus, it is." 

Albus continued, "While you are right, Madam Pomfrey's death is still going to come as a terrible shock. I don't expect the staff meeting to occur for another two hours, at least. There is so much to talk about and I expect that we'll be able to talk more freely with some than with others. I'm sure you gather my meaning." His eyes did that "twinkley" thing. "This may take a series of meetings!" 

Hermione pondered the hidden message behind that statement. 

As she stood up shakily, she was surprised to see Snape slip from the shadows to move over to her and place a steadying hand on her elbow. She hadn't noticed that he'd returned. Hermione caught a look from him and her first thought was, "Do I see pity in his eyes? No, surely not." She straightened her posture in a defiant gesture. 

"I've had a room made up for you here in the Dungeons," Albus said quietly. Hermione gave him a look of surprise. "I know you were expecting to stay somewhere near Gryffindor Tower, but for the sake of practicality, I think it's best if you were near the Potions Lab. Something tells me we're going to need your help." 

Hermione risked a sidelong glance at Snape. His usual scowl deepened further. 

"I'm going to have to contact my superiors at the hospital and let them know that I'll be staying here, at least for a while. Luckily, I was overdue for some vacation time, so I don't think that there will be a problem." 

Dumbledore looked at her with affection. "Rest child. We'll find you when it comes time for the meeting. I expect you'll want to be alone for a while." For once, Hermione was grateful for the Headmaster's legendary omniscience. 

Snape's silky voice intervened. "I'll walk you to your quarters." Hermione murmured her thanks. 

They walked in silence and when they reached her rooms he said curtly. "I'll see you shortly." 

With a sweep of his robes, he continued down the hall. 

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Once she reached the sanctuary of her rooms, Hermione collapsed in a chair by the fireplace in her sitting room. She drew a shaky breath and took her first survey of her surroundings. Her suite consisted of three rooms; the sitting room, a bedroom, and a rather large bathroom. 

Getting up to explore the bedroom, Hermione had been surprised at the brightness of the room. While one wall was the requisite old stone, the other walls were painted in a bright sky blue colour. There was a sturdy oak dresser and a matching desk and night table. Plush gold rugs covered the white carpet. She noticed that the oak headboard was carved into the shape of a graceful phoenix, wings outstretched. 

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"How fitting," Hermione thought to herself. 

The bedspread was midnight blue, sprinkled with small silver stars, which twinkled subtly in the growing dusky light from the window. 

A window? In the dungeons? As Hermione wondered about this, a little House Elf bustled in, her arms full of towels for the bathroom. She stammered when she saw Hermione. "Is-Is that you, M-miss Hermione? Winky is so glad to see you!" She squeaked, "My friends are all cryin' in the kitchens, Miss. Madam Pomfrey was a kind mistress." Large tears began to leak from her eyes. 

"We all loved her, Winky. We will not let Voldemort get away with this." 

"Oh no, Missy! Please don't say his name!" She began to cry harder. 

To distract her, Hermione said, "I didn't know there were windows in the dungeons." Winky smiled suddenly. "Professor Snape, sir, was coming in here before you and he made the window with his wand." Suddenly the little Elf looked horrified. 

"Oh no! Winky is not supposed to be telling Missy that! Bad Winky! Winky is so bad!" 

Before Winky could start banging her head on the floor, Hermione intervened smoothly. "Don't worry, Winky. I promise I won't mention this to anybody, least of all, Professor Snape." 

"Really, Miss? The professor, sir, he says that he would put Winky in a jar, that he'd make a potion out of Winky!" She wailed. 

"I promise, Winky. Not a word to anybody." 

Placated, Winky happily bustled out of the room. "There is food in the kitchens, if Miss is wanting to eat later." 

The House Elves had obviously prepared her quarters in record time. There was a small table next to a creme-coloured couch in the sitting room and a tray with tea and biscuits had been placed upon it. Hermione took a distracted bite out of her cookie and grimaced. It tasted like ashes in her mouth. _"Pull yourself together, girl_," she told herself. 

Sighing, she went to the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face. As she looked up into the mirror, she was shocked by what she saw. Her face was terribly pinched and pale, dark circles evident under her eyes. Her hair looked like family of field mice had made a nest in it. 

Good Lord, no wonder Snape had given her a pitying look. She looked so bad that even the Greasy Git Potions Master had felt sorry for her. 

"There, there, dear," crooned the Mirror. "I'm sure it's not that bad." 

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A walk. I need to go on a walk. 

Pulling on her robes, she made her way outside the castle, to the lake. 

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Snape sat at a desk in his private quarters, his body hunched. His hair was disheveled, as he had a habit of running his fingers through it when he was agitated. Pulling his hands from his face, he let out a deep breath. "I should have known things were only going to get worse," he whispered softly to himself. 

He was a man lost. He knew that his life wasn't worth a knut, now with his cover blown. He thought about the events of that afternoon. It wasn't a coincidence that Voldemort had gone after Poppy and Minerva. 

But why? Why not Potter or Weasley, or even Hermione? Why not himself? 

Indeed. 

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"It should have been me, Poppy," he thought mournfully. How he wished it had been. 

He thought about the heating cauldrons that he'd left in the Potions Lab. Getting up, he told himself that he might as well be useful. 

He had his back to his door when he was surprised by a smooth voice. 

"Working hard, Uncle Severus?" 

Whirling, he was mildly surprised to see Draco Malfoy standing right in the middle of his personal space. _"I'm going to have to change my wards again," _he thought fleetingly. He glared at Malfoy. 

"Shouldn't you be somewhere? Like somewhere else?" Snape snarled. 

"Now is that any way to treat a relative? Mother would be very unhappy at your tone." Draco gave a theatrical sniff. 

"Your mother would completely understand. Besides, I'm not really your uncle, more like a third cousin, twice removed." 

"Details." Draco grinned widely. "Besides, you should be glad to see me. I've got loads to tell you. But first, a drink!" 

"You know where it is." Snape let out an exaggerated sigh. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but why are you here?" 

Draco poured himself a scotch. "I've got news of Voldemort." 

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Hermione found herself strolling around the lake, lost in deep thought. The early winter breeze shifted slightly, blowing tendrils of her curly hair over her face. Brushing them back impatiently, she wondered about the Headmaster's statement that they could use her help. Something told her that it had less to do with her healing skills and more to with her knowledge of potions. She wondered about that. Surely Snape was the true expert in that field. 

Snape. 

She had pushed him away from her thoughts, like a black hole she was afraid to touch. This afternoon he had been almost . . . kind. Well not kind, exactly, but certainly civil. Almost human. Except for that encounter they had when they first reached his quarters, he'd treated her with a certain deference that had been wholly unexpected. She had felt the sparks fly between them and an electric current had run through her when he'd gripped her shoulders. She shivered and again pushed that thought away. 

Not now, she told herself. _Not ever._

And yet, there was that window. Snape had made a point of conjuring a window for her. Before she could contemplate that further, she heard a soft, teasing voice from behind her. 

"Thinking of me?" 

She turned quickly. "Harry!" She was gratified to see the familiar, mischievous gleam in his emerald eyes. "Oh, Harry!" 

He reached for her to pull her in a tight embrace. "I've missed you so," he said. "I'm sorry I haven't written with more regularity. This Auror stuff is really killer." He grinned. 

"It's alright. I've hardly been home anyway. I suppose you heard the news." 

Harry took in a deep breath. "It's awful. I know how you felt about Madam Pomfrey, I'm so sorry." 

Hermione felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes. "She was my mentor, you know. Everybody thought I was going to follow in McGonagall's footsteps, or even Snape's, but Madam Pomfrey opened my eyes to the wonders of true wizard healing. I mean, it has everything! In a way, I have followed in McGonagall and Snape's footsteps. Even Vector's! I've had to learn about potions, surely, but even before that there are the theories involved in arithmancy. And transfiguration is a critical component in healing in the battlefield. Madam Pomfrey pointed the way to . . . I'm babbling, aren't I?" 

"Yes, but I like it." 

Hermione sighed. "Harry, Albus seems to think that I can be useful in the fight against Voldemort. I'm not so sure." 

"Of course you can be useful, you're brilliant, right?" He laughed. Hermione playfully punched him in the shoulder. "Anyway, I suppose we'll find out soon enough what's on the Headmaster's mind." 

"I suppose so," Hermione said quietly. 

"By the way, Ron sends his love. He's actually on a top-secret training mission, which is why he couldn't be here. I'd tell you where it is, but then I'd have to, you know . . . " he smiled. "Tickle you!" 

Hermione screeched as he grabbed her. "Really! You think you'd have grown up by now!" 

"Never!" he said defiantly. 

"I'm so glad you're here, Harry. I feel so much better." 

"That's the idea." Putting an arm around her shoulder, he said, "Let's walk, shall we?" 

************************************* 

The meeting in Dumbledore's quarters was an intimate one. Snape was seated in his usual chair by the fire. The group included McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Vector, Harry and to her infinite surprise, Draco Malfoy. He smirked at her, but before she could ask the obvious question, Remus Lupin walked briskly into the room. "I'm sorry I'm late! Hermione! It's good to see you, my dear. I'm sorry about Poppy, I know she meant the world to you." 

"Thank you, Remus," she said gratefully. "I'd heard that you were here at Hogwarts, teaching Defense Against The Dark Arts. I'm glad somebody stood up for you before the Board of Governors." She looked pointedly at Snape. He arched an eyebrow at her. 

"Padfoot would have liked to have been here, but he's busy tracking a group of Death Eaters in Albania," Remus interjected. 

"Sniffing after Narcissa Malfoy, would be more like it," snarled the Potions Master. 

"Don't let Lucius hear you say that," laughed Draco. "He'd challenge you to a duel, not that it wouldn't be amusing to watch. Besides, from what I understand, Sirius hasn't sniffed around my mother for years!"

"Oh really!" exclaimed an exasperated McGonagall. 

"Now children," interrupted the Headmaster. " If I may focus your attention. I'm sure you're wondering about Draco's presence in this room. Despite the smirk, Draco has proven himself loyal to our cause. Some of you may have heard of his, *ahem* more notorious activities, but I can assure you that Draco plays both sides very well." 

"Why thank you, Professor. I'll take that as a compliment. And I owe it all to my Uncle Severus, who has taught me every dirty trick he knows." He raised his glass to Snape, who was muttering, "I'm not your bloody uncle!" 

Hermione gave a stage whisper to Harry. "I think I liked him better when he was a Death Eating Prat." 

Draco walked over to Harry, holding out his hand. 

"Potter, you bloody git." 

"Malfoy, you utter wanker." Harry grinned. They shook hands. 

"Now that we've all properly greeted each other, perhaps we can move on?" Snape's tone was sarcastic. 

"Certainly, Uncle. As I was telling you, I have news of Voldemort. For some insane reason, he seems to trust me. He thinks I have 'potential' and I've become a confidant, of sorts. Right now, he's convinced that I'm at Hogwarts, wooing our lovely Dr. Granger here. It seems that the Dark Lord is something of a romantic. He thinks that the Malfoy Charm can do wonders for the good Healer's disposition. When I pressed him about it, he told me that Hermione was involved in some very interesting research and that if I was a good little boy toy, perhaps I could find out more, via pillow talk, or something of the sort. I believe he was talking about sex." 

Hermione choked on her tea. 

"The very idea!" She sputtered. " I hate you! Or at least, I did, anyway." 

"Now that I'm working for the Light, don't you think I'm a good catch?" He smirked the annoying Malfoy Smirk at her. 

"Great Merlin's Adam Apple!" roared Snape. "Don't you see you're completely missing the point? He's interested in her research!" He turned to Hermione. "I'm guessing there's a spy at your workplace. Enlighten us please, about what it is you're doing in London." 

Hermione spoke slowly. "It's all very hush, hush," she frowned. "I don't even know where to begin. I suppose I should start by telling you that I'm a Sentient." She looked at Snape. "We specialize in the healing of injuries imposed by dark magic. It's a very arduous process and it involves a very disciplined approach that usually discourages most wizard doctors. There are very few of us." 

"Go on," murmured Albus. 

"While my research is in its infancy, I have been studying a technique called 'Soul Gathering'. The best way I can explain it to you is tell you that it's been well known for years that the Unforgiveables work by causing a 'shattering' of the soul, so to speak. Even with the Imperius and Cruciatus curses, the soul splinters in response to the spells, as a sort of defense mechanism. Our souls naturally disconnect in the face of such trauma and quite literally, the pieces are thrown into the cosmos. I guess it's the cosmos, we're not really sure where they go. Anyway, the ancient Druids came up with a healing technique that involved gathering the lost pieces of the soul back to the body and thus, the person becomes whole again, facilitating healing. I can assure you that it's much more complicated than I explained, but that's the gist of it. Interestingly, some of the ancient Indian tribes of the Americas used a similar technique to heal a condition that is currently known as 'Multiple Personality Disorder'. Of course, they didn't call it that. Their technique was to integrate the splintered personalities. Fascinating, really." 

"And how is your research going?" Snape's voice betrayed his interest. 

"I think I've worked out some of the arithmancy. I can tell you that I've determined that it can't be done with a simple spell. It takes a combination of a potion to gather the soul back into the mind and then a spell to channel it into the body. The potion is very tricky because its properties would be somewhat unpredictable, but I think it can be done. At least, I'm banking my research grant on it." 

"Uncle Severus, you've got that look again." Draco eyed his "uncle" as Snape began pacing back and forth across the room. 

Snape's head snapped up. "Voldemort is immune to the killing curse, he's been bragging about it at the revels. He's apparently found a way to keep his soul intact in the face of it." He gave Hermione an appraising look. "Your 'Soul Gathering Spell' . . . can it be done backwards?" 

Hermione gaped at him. "Pardon?" 

"You heard me, you foolish girl. Can you do it backwards?" 

Hermione's gape changed into a glare. "I suppose the process could be reversed, but for what purpose . . . " 

"Think about it, Dr. Granger," Snape purred. "If there was such a thing as a potion that could weaken the soul, then a spell that could shatter it . . . " 

"Voldemort could be defeated." Hermione finished in disbelief. 

"Precisely. Right now, our biggest stumbling block has been that he's been using his physical body like an Imperius curse. He controls the body, but he doesn't fully inhabit it. Killing his body is pointless, his soul, such as it is, would only escape until a new body could be found. But if his soul is shattered, it would be the end of him." 

Harry leaned forward in his chair. "But do you think Voldemort has figured this out? Is that why he's so interested in Hermione's research?" 

"That and the fact that she's a Sentient. What Dr. Granger so pointedly forgot to mention is the fact that a Sentient can bring those who have suffered a fatal injury from Dark Magic back from the brink of death. Contrary to popular belief, the Killing Curse isn't the only Dark Magic that kills. Perhaps Voldemort thinks that he would have occasion to make use of your Sentient Kiss?" 

Hermione shuddered. 

Snape continued. "I take it you still have the Sentient Mark? You haven't wasted it on some undeserving dunderhead, have you?" 

"No, it's here." She stood up and pulled her wild hair away from the nape of her neck. There, poised in splendid technicolor, was the tattoo of a Phoenix. The amazing thing about it was that it seemed to move, as if it were a living creature. 

"Oh my," muttered Harry. "Do we have a lot to talk about, Hermione!" 

As if on cue, Fawkes flew from Dumbledore's shoulder to his perch, and stretching his wings, he let out a single, beautiful note. 

__

To be continued . . . 

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Author's Note: If Draco seems a little OOC from the books, remember, he's 25 years old and has a personal history that will be explained as "Shattered" goes on . . . like his Uncle Severus, he's led a secret life.


	3. Chapter 1: Rest

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com 

Disclaimer: Please see the Prologue, OK? 

************************************ 

  
Thou'rt slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,  
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;  
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well  
And better than thy stroke. Why swell'st thou then?  
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,  
And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die. 

~From John Donne's poem, "Death, Be Not Proud" 

************************* 

Chapter 1: Rest

The first thing Hermione noticed was the smell. The pungent, smoky stench infiltrated her brain immediately, making her head spin. Looking around wildly, she registered that she was in the middle of the hospital wing at Hogwarts. A loud wail turned her attention to a young girl lying on the floor, her companions crouched besides her. Much of her clothing was burned away and her exposed skin was a weepy, deep red. Hermione made a quick mental note, assessing that over 30% of the front of her body had been burned. As she instinctively stepped towards the girl, she turned to her left and saw a young boy of about fifteen, taking in harsh raspy breaths. The front of his shirt was covered in blood. There was a line of children sitting against the wall, in various states of injury. Hermione stopped in her tracks, paralyzed. 

She looked up at Snape, registering his presence for the first time. "How . . . " 

"I've been given a special dispensation by the Ministry to Apparate directly into Hogwarts," he said, anticipating her question. 

"What . . . " 

"No time," he snapped. "If you're looking for help, it's just you and me, so let's get on with it." 

"We've got to triage," Hermione said, looking around at the same time for supplies. "From what I can assess, the girl with the burns is the most seriously injured, although the boy on the cot next to her appears to have collapsed a lung. I don't know how much longer he can maintain the energy to breathe before he goes into respiratory failure." 

"I've got a potion in my stores that increases the force of skeletal muscle contraction," said 

Snape, smirking at her surprised look. "I can concentrate the effects of the Myocoercere Potion to his respiratory muscles, at least until you can attend to him." 

"I can begin the healing of the girl using my wands, but I'm going to need a supply of analgesic potions. I will also need to replace her blood proteins, to keep her from going into shock. I know that Madam Pomfrey keeps a supply of Muggle medical devices that will be useful in the short term." 

Snape nodded his head and turned to leave the room. Hermione had taken to wearing her medical robes when she meditated, for reasons that were probably more superstitious than practical. 

However, the practice had served her well in this instance, as she had both of her wands in the pockets of her robes. She was sure that this detail hadn't escaped Snape's initial notice. 

She went over to the burned girl, kneeling beside her. "Shhh, shhh," she crooned to the girl. "I'm Dr. Granger and I'm going to help you. Please try to relax, the first thing I'm going to do is to cast a spell to take away some of the pain and speed up the healing process." She pulled out her wooden wand (rosewood, with a unicorn hair at its core, 9 ½ inches) and held it in her right hand. With her left hand, she pulled out another wand, made entirely of selenite. A very large pink kunzite crystal was poised at the tip. 

The children pulled back, all wide-eyed wonder. Hermione began muttering a spell and the girl's clothing magically peeled away from her burns. As she murmured the incantation further, the tip of her wooden wand glowed red, while the tip of her crystal wand glowed a deep blue. Hermione brought the tips together and a soft hum emanated from the apex of the wands. A deep lavender energy began flowing from the wands to the girl's burned flesh. Hermione continued whispering the ancient spell and the girl's breathing began to ease. The burns lost their angry, red hue, transforming into a deep pink colour. The skin began to smooth and dry out. This continued for a few minutes then Hermione turned to a boy next to her. "Let's get her up on a bed. I'm going to Madam Pomfrey's storeroom to gather more supplies." 

As she stood up, she saw to her surprise that Fred and George Weasley were running into the infirmary, both clutching Quidditch brooms. They were accompanied by two of Hermione's London medical colleagues. 

"Hermione! Thank Merlin you're here!" exclaimed one of the twins. (She still had a hard time telling them apart.) "We were at our shop in Hogsmeade when the attack occurred. There was barely enough time for Snape to dispatch us to London to bring back more help. I take it you know these two?" 

Hermione recognized her friends from St. Aloysius Hospital in London and let out a breath of relief.

"Rhys! Claire! You can't imagine how glad I am to see you!" Hermione met them for a quick group hug. They walked over to the potions table. "Let me tell you what's going on." 

She was just finishing her consultation when Snape entered the infirmary, with Albus Dumbledore in tow. He was an incredibly comforting sight. 

"Hermione! I'm sorry to see you under these circumstances," said the Headmaster. "I only just arrived myself, I was in London when news of the attacks reach the Ministry. I came back as soon as I heard. How can I help?" 

Hermione smiled at him. "Headmaster, I think you help by merely being here. Right now some of the least injured students need your attention. It would help if you could reassure them that everything is alright and that a doctor will attend to them shortly. And then perhaps we can talk, when this situation stabilizes?" He nodded. 

Taking some of the well-labeled potions from Snape, she and her colleagues set to work on the most seriously injured of Hogwarts. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Snape attending to the boy with the collapsed lung. He leaned over to the boy and quietly said something to him. As he straightened up, the boy gave him a weak, but grateful smile. "He must be a Slytherin," Hermione snorted to herself. 

***************************************************** 

Severus Snape delivered the potions and stood back for a few moments to furtively observe Hermione in her work. He had been surprised to see her wearing the robes of the Order of Chiron. He knew it to be an extremely exclusive and secretive healing order and wondered about her involvement with the group. 

Interesting. 

There apparently was more to the irrepressible Miss Granger of "Know-It-All" fame than he would have ever guessed. 

Her dark brown hair was in riotous disarray and her white robes flowed almost as if they were moving under water. The sleeves and hem of her outer robe were trimmed in a dark blue silk, with a slow moving pattern of runes running along the outer edges. He recognized the symbols for earth, fire, water and air as they circled around the material. She wore a large pendant of round, cut sapphire, surrounded by a platinum setting in the shape of the sun. He knew from what little had been published about the Order that those who belonged were trained in the channeling of earth energies, to facilitate healing. He suspected that there was much more to this particular brand of healing magic, though. It was said that the training was grueling and that most failed to make the grade. 

He scowled. 

Typical. He really shouldn't have been surprised that she had chosen to go for such a program. 

He went into the supply storeroom and paused, sighing. He was going to have to tell Miss, ("no dammit!") _Doctor_ Granger about Madam Pomfrey. When the Death Eaters had pointed their wands at Minerva and Poppy, he had been powerless to intervene and had watched in horror as a Cruciatus curse was hurled towards the women. In a blink, Poppy had thrown herself in front of Minerva and the curse had hit her square in the back. It was particularly horrid because it had been simultaneously cast by at least five of the Death Eaters. The others had been involved in protecting the perimeter and a battle had ensued. 

Snape had cast a quick succession of "Stupefy" hexes, alternating with a couple of Cruciatus curses of his own. He saw an angry Minerva McGonagall retaliate with a few vicious hexes and he couldn't help slightly smiling at the sight. He knew that the Ministry, in spite of their public denial of a "Death Eater problem", had posted undercover Aurors around Hogsmeade. Soon they had help. He noticed that Potter and Weasely were not amongst the Aurors and had briefly wondered about that. 

Many innocent wizards, mostly children, had been caught in the crossfire as the battle had begun right outside the Weasley twins' joke shop. When it became obvious that the Death Eaters were cornered and outnumbered, some had Apparated away, leaving the injured and dead to the Ministry and their Aurors. Most of the injured civilians had been evacuated to Hogwarts. 

Snape had hurried over to where Minerva and Poppy were clutching each other, still huddled in the doorway of the clothing shop. He had gently laid a hand on Minerva's shoulder and she'd shifted so he could see Poppy. Even though he'd been prepared for the worst, he still had to stifle his cry. It was obvious that she was terribly, terribly injured. Every muscle in her body seemed to be contorted and her skin was a dusky gray colour. She was barely breathing and luckily appeared to be unconscious. Minerva looked up to him with tears in her eyes. "I don't think she's going to survive this, Severus," she whispered. "The only person who would even have a chance of healing her is Hermione Granger and she's in London where she's . . . " 

Snape interrupted, "I know exactly where Miss, I mean Dr. Granger is, " he spat. " And I suppose you want me to fetch her," he added, in a scornful tone. He softened when he saw the stricken look on Minerva's face. "I'm sorry," he murmured, shaking his head. "Of course Dr. Granger is the best and Poppy needs the best. I'll see to it. Minvera, I think it would be best if we separated Poppy from the rest of the injured. It would only provoke panic if they knew that she's this badly hurt. Place her in my private quarters. I have a supply of potions and a lab next door. We can tend to her there." 

Giving her the password to his quarters, he'd then had the presence of mind to intercept the Weasley twins and send them to London to fetch more medical help. He subsequently Apparated to the hallway in front of Hermione Granger's flat. 

And now he had to tell her that Poppy had lived through the attack, only to probably die in his bed. Minerva was with her, and Snape had given her potions that would ease Poppy's pain and relax her muscles, but he feared that her internal injuries had been too great. Not only that, but his cover had been blown with the Death Eaters. There would be time enough to deal with that. 

He steeled himself, gathering more supplies and left the room. 

****************************************************** 

  
Once she and her colleagues had gotten everybody stabilized, Hermione searched the room for Snape. She found him in deep conversation with the Headmaster. 

"Things have calmed down," said Hermione. "And now I need some of my questions answered." 

"In due time," said Snape. "There is one more thing we need of you, Dr. Granger." He looked at the Headmaster helplessly and Hermione felt the beginnings of unease. Snape was never helpless. Dumbledore cleared his throat. 

"I'm afraid that there is one more patient we need you to attend to and I'm very afraid of the outcome. You're probably wondering about Madam Pomfrey." 

Hermione felt a cold cloud of fear pressing her heart. "No," she whispered. 

"She was hit by the Cruciatus, cast simultaneously by at least five Death Eaters. She's in Severus' private quarters and Professor McGonagall is with her. I'm afraid she's near death, Hermione." 

Hermione turned to Snape. "You bastard!" she screamed. I needed to go to her immediately and you kept me from her! How could you do such a horrible thing?" 

"Don't be angry with Severus," said the Headmaster. "Poppy briefly regained consciousness, only to tell him that the students needed to be treated first. She said that even if you were to get to her sooner, it would be unlikely that you could save her. She said she has strong reason to believe that her death is imminent. She wants to see you, child." 

Giving Snape a cold look, Hermione ran out of the infirmary to the dungeons. He scowled and followed her. "The stupid woman won't be able to get past my wards," he muttered to himself. 

"Typical Gryffindor, she thinks she can bulldoze her way into my chambers." 

He eventually rounded the dungeon hallway to find her banging on his door, screaming obscenities at it and demanding that it open. She was pointing her wand at it, firing out all sorts of hell and brimstone. _Since when did Miss Perfect use coarse language like that?_ He rolled his eyes and breaking the wards, they stepped inside. 

He grabbed her by the shoulders before she could move further into his quarters. "Poppy is in a bad way," he hissed. "She doesn't need your maudlin, over-emotional entreaties to make her last moments on this earth harder." His grip tightened. 

"How dare you," whispered Hermione. She was shaking with anger. "Poppy was my mentor and I love her very much. How dare you presume that you know what's best for her and I don't? If the situation were different, I'd be hexing you to China right now. As it is, she needs us to put up a united front. Now. Get. Out. Of. My. Way," she slowly ground out. He released her shoulders. 

As she swept past him, she missed the look of grudging admiration that briefly flickered upon his features. It was gone in an instant and he settled into his usual inscrutable look. 

When he reached his bedroom, Hermione was already sitting on the bed, Poppy's right hand clasped in her own. She was leaning down, whispering to the mediwitch, who clearly had been drifting in and out of consciousness. Professor McGonagall was sitting on a chair at the other side of the bed and Snape maneuvered himself at its foot. 

Hermione was caressing Poppy's hand with her face. "Are you in pain?" she asked. 

Poppy smiled. "No child, Severus took care of that. He's a good man." Hermione looked at her dubiously. 

"I'm glad you're here," the mediwitch added.

Hermione leaned over to Poppy. "I can heal you", she whispered softly. "You know that I have the power. You were struck by dark magic and you know that there's a way I can dispel this." 

"You are a Sentient, Hermione," said Poppy, weakly. "You must save your kiss for somebody more deserving, somebody who has the power to change the course of this war. It's not me, my darling. I should tell you that I have been dying for several months now. I didn't want to worry anybody, but I was diagnosed with advanced colon cancer three months ago. Not even magic could save me. Except yours, " she chuckled, but soon the sound turned into a harsh cough. 

"Oh, how can you laugh at a time like this?" 

Poppy reached up to stroke her hair. "I'm at peace, my girl. Promise me that you'll take care of yourself and those who are fighting for the Light." Her gaze rested on Snape. "Severus, I trust you'll look after my replacement? Make sure she has the proper potions to do her job. I can't rest knowing that things will be in disarray when I'm gone." 

"I promise, Poppy." 

She lay back weakly in her pillow. The conversation had taken an obvious toll on her. Her dusky colour deepened and her breathing became ragged. Before she lost consciousness again, she murmured, "I love you all." 

The three of them stayed with her for another half an hour. Dumbledore came in and stood next to Professor McGonagall, a somber, sad expression on his face. As Poppy's breathing became slower and harsher, Hermione allowed herself a few bitter tears. She was stroking her face while Minerva rubbed Poppy's hand soothingly. As Hermione's vision blurred, she felt a gentle pressure on her shoulder. Surprised, she looked up to see Snape standing there, giving her the most compassionate look she'd ever seen. She almost didn't recognize him as his onyx eyes communicated their shared pain. The four sat in silence, as Poppy's breathing became slower and slower. Finally, it ceased altogether. 

Madam Poppy Pomfrey was gone. 

__

To be continued . . . 

  
*************************** 


	4. Chapter 3: Beginning

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com 

Just a brief note before I go on: The inspiration for the phoenix tattoo and the Sentient Kiss came from a story called Love and War, by Night Spirit. She graciously gave her permission for my adaptation. I'm putting a unique twist on the idea, and it is different from how she used them in her story. My thanks to her!

And now on to Shattered:

************************************ 

I have heard what the talkers were talking,   
the talk of the beginning and the end;  
But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.   
There was never any more inception than there is now,   
Nor any more youth or age than there is now;   
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,   
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now. 

~From the poem, "Song of Myself" by Walt Whitman 

************************************ 

Chapter 3: Beginning 

Hermione found herself wandering the Hogwarts hallways in a daze after the meeting in the Headmaster's office. Albus had concluded that it had been a trying day and that they had much to think about. Hermione thought this to be a typical Albus Dumbledore understatement. Although this was still a Saturday, she was delighted to see some of the students roaming the halls and the grounds of her old school. Somehow, it comforted her to know that no matter what happened out in the "real world", at least some things hadn't changed at Hogwarts. 

"Oi Hermione! Wait up!" 

__

"No, it can't be," she thought to herself. Turning around for confirmation she looked at Draco Malfoy with mixed emotions. 

"Did I just hear the mighty Draco Malfoy utter the word, 'Oi'? And where's the term of endearment, you know, 'Mudblood', 'stupid bitch', etc., etc.?" 

He smiled his most charming smile for her "I'm not my daddy's Draco Malfoy, anymore." 

"What do you want, Malfoy?" She continued to walk briskly down the hall. Draco hurried after her. 

"You and I have a lot to talk about, believe it or not. I thought we could discuss things over a nice romantic dinner at that new Italian restaurant in Diagon Alley." He cut off her noise of protest. "Now, now, first of all I can assure you that you'll be perfectly safe with me." 

Hermione snorted in disbelief. 

"And secondly, we truly have serious things to talk about, Hermione. Lives are at stake. I know we never got along in school and I may have been a little cruel," he paused as Hermione raised an eyebrow. "All right, I was _very_ cruel, but if you go out to dinner with me, I'll explain everything. After all, if Potty, erm, Potter and I can put the past behind us, then so can you and I!"

She frowned. "I don't think that would be a good . . . " 

Suddenly Draco grabbed her by the hands and roughly pushed her up against the wall. He quickly lowered his head and gave her a very hard, passionate kiss. She struggled against him, beginning to sputter in protest. Draco moved his soft mouth against her ear and whispered, "Calm down. There are students watching us and I know from past experience that Little Death Eaters have big eyes and big ears. Please, I'll explain everything, but in the meantime, for the sake of my life, just kiss me back." 

"That's the worse pick-up line I've ever heard," Hermione whispered back. His startling gray eyes looked at her with amusement. She leaned up, pretending to kiss his neck but instead gave him a sharp bite on his earlobe.

Draco yelped in pain then whispered in delight, "I think I'm going to really enjoy this." 

He straightened up. "It wouldn't look good for us to be seen playing footsie together in public right after Madam Pomfrey's death. We'll talk about this more after the funeral. Au revoir, Dr. Granger." He gallantly kissed her hand. 

The last thing Hermione saw before he walked away was the Malfoy Smirk. 

"What the hell have I gotten myself into?" 

************************************ 

The harsh Bulgarian winter wind penetrated the thin walls of the rundown house. Wormtail shivered, but he wasn't sure it was completely from the cold. The Dark Lord was sitting in chair by the hearth and his smile was menacing. 

"Come closer, Peter." Wormtail shuddered at the sound of his name from his Master's thin, cruel lips. 

"It's been confirmed," he said harshly. "Snape is a traitor. I thought so all along, you know. He's a clever one, but I'm even more clever. I knew he couldn't stand by and watch that stupid woman die." 

Wormtail looked at Voldemort's bright red eyes. "You knew, my Lord?" 

"Oh yes. He's always been a good actor, but he couldn't hide his revulsion at the revels. He's grown soft over the years, he tires of the game. It was only a matter of time before he was found out." 

"What are you going to do to him?" 

"He'll get what's coming to him, in the end. I have a plan, Peter." He gave a soft laugh and Wormtail was struck by the hollow sound. "My hope is resting on young Draco Malfoy." 

"Are you s-s-sure that's wise, Master?" Wormtail stuttered with uncertainty. 

"Are you doubting me, Peter?" 

"Oh! Oh no, Master. P-p-please." To his own horror, fearful tears began to well up in his squinty eyes. 

"Nevermind," said the Dark Lord. "I have given young Malfoy a test. If he's a traitor, he's already told my enemies that I'm interested in Hermione Granger's research. It's a red-herring. I could care less about her research." 

"Then what is your interest in the girl, my Lord?" 

"Hermione Granger is a healer. There is nothing she could do to hurt me. No, my interest in Dr. Granger lies with Harry Potter. If Mr. Malfoy is successful in courting her, it will become a distraction to Potter. Just think, Peter. I will have the best friend of Harry Potter working for my success and she won't even know it. The closer Malfoy gets to Granger, the closer I get to Harry Potter. A 'friendship' with Draco Malfoy will make her susceptible to the Dark. And besides, she's a Sentient, which could come in very handy." He gave out a booming laugh. 

"How do you know Hermione Granger will even talk to Draco Malfoy, let alone become his lover? She always hated him, I thought." 

"Draco has always been a success with the fairer sex. She won't be able to resist him. I doubt she's ever had any man, much less someone of Malfoy's obvious charm, give her a second glance. I'm quite certain that she'll fall hard for him. In the meantime, she'll be wasting her time trying to figure out why I'm interested in her medical work, should Mr. Malfoy be so foolish as to tell her. In fact, this may be a way to see where his loyalties _really_ lie." 

Voldemort stood suddenly. "There is much work to be done. Tonight, we leave for England." 

****************************** 

Snape paced the front of his potions classroom, very deep in thought. His mind was whirling with everything that had transpired, everything he had heard, and everything he'd seen. 

Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. 

He had just rounded a corner to catch a glimpse of them in a passionate embrace against a wall. His fists had tightened involuntarily and he'd wondered at his reaction. Of course Malfoy had to begin putting the plan into action, but why this would bother him, he couldn't say. 

His memory of Hermione Granger as a student was of a small, slender girl with too much hair, skin too pale and frown lines along her forehead from too much reading in a dim light. She'd been a thorn in his side for years, always showing off in class and covertly trying to help her less talented classmates. She'd irritated him the whole time she'd been in school. Once she left, he'd heard snippets here and then from Minerva and Poppy about what she'd been up to.

At the time, he couldn't have cared less.

But now he was struck by the maturing change in her in the intervening years. While she wasn't conventionally attractive, there was a glowing spirit about her that made her very pretty, which was an unsettling revelation to him. Maybe it was her full pink lips, or her warm, large brown eyes, but what ever it was, Snape was now looking at her in a completely new light. 

His mind involuntarily flickered to an imaginary mental image of her naked. Was her skin really as soft as it looked? Would her breasts be as beautiful as he suspected? 

A voice in his mind admonished him_. "Great Merlin, what the hell is wrong with you? She's a brat and twenty years your junior. Get a grip, you pervert_. 

Poor choice of words.

Shaking his head, he strode out of his classroom and headed for the Library. He had to research the subject of the Soul's role in maintaining physical health. He really knew very little about it because, to be honest, his soul hadn't concerned him much over the years. He was pretty certain that he'd lost his a long time ago. 

Madam Pince was nowhere to be found when he entered the Library. Making a beeline for the Restricted Section, he was rewarded by the sight of Hermione Granger seated at a table, a large stack of books obscuring his view of her. He pushed his previous thoughts of her away. 

"Dr. Granger," he said smoothly. "How unsurprising." 

Hermione was startled, but recovered quickly. "I was just trying to gather up some reference books on Soul Gathering. I've discovered that we're missing some vital textbooks on the subject and I'm going to have them sent over from Edinburgh University. I'm also going to go back to my flat and bring my notebooks. I told you that I'd worked out some of the arithmancy and I'm going to need them as a starting point to reverse the Soul Gathering process." 

Snape nodded. "I've got some ideas of my own that I think we should discuss. While my arithmancy is a little rusty, I'm very knowledgeable on the subject of the properties of potions." He allowed himself a subtle smile. "If we can work out what it is we want the potion to do, I can make it," he added boastfully. 

Hermione let out a small grin. "I have no doubt of that, Professor. You always were an amazing Potions Master." 

Snape flushed, seemingly uncomfortable. He thought it best to change the subject. "Dr. Granger, if you're going to go back to your flat, I suggest that you let Potter accompany you. It may not be safe." 

Hermione felt a small stab of disappointment, but refused to examine that feeling further. Was she hoping he'd offer to take her himself? "Erm, Professor, if you'd like perhaps you could come with us? Maybe it would be good for you to get out of the castle for a while." 

Snape's face was impassive, but inwardly he was caught off guard by her suggestion. "Thank you, Dr. Granger, but I don't think I'll be going anywhere soon. I guess you weren't paying attention," he snarled, more harshly than he'd intended. Seeing the fallen look on Hermione's face, he added softly, "I shouldn't take it out on you, but you must know that I'm a target for assassination. Once outside the protection of Hogwarts, I'm a sitting duck. Every Death Eater in the country would love to have the honor of killing me for the Dark Lord." 

"Oh! Of course." Hermione was embarrassed at her blunder. 

"Nevermind," said Snape. "I think it best if we retire for the evening. Once you've gathered your materials, we can begin working on the potion. Time is of the essence, but there is truly nothing that can be done right now. Good evening, Dr. Granger." With a nod of his head, he departed from the Library. 

*************************** 

The morning of Madam Pomfrey's funeral was cold and crisp, but the sun was shining, much to Hermione's relief. She didn't think she'd be able to stand it if it the day had dawned gray and rainy. Harry came by her suite to escort her out to the grounds, where Albus was to preside over the ceremony. Hermione chose to wear simple black robes, her hair tamed from its usual bushiness, her face unadorned by make-up. 

One of the first things she 'd noticed while observing the ways of the wizard's world was that all important rituals were held outdoors. Later, she learned that mother nature was very important in such events, as it was understood that magic didn't only come from within, but was also all around them in the trees, the flowers and the magical creatures that surrounded them. Hermione knew this to be true as the magical energies of the Earth were called upon during times of healing. She knew from what she'd experienced as a healer that all life was connected, be it the birds in the sky or the grass in the meadow. Everything was in balance. Thus it was that Madam Pomfrey's funeral was held on the grounds of Hogwarts. 

The entire school and staff were assembled in a small grove of trees near the lake. Madam Pomfrey was laid out in splendor, dressed in the soft golden robes of Hufflepuff. She was resting on a marble altar, surrounded by the wildflowers she loved so much. There were other guests as well, and Hermione saw the Weasleys and members of the Ministry of Magic. Madam Rosmerta was there, standing next to Hagrid. As she cried softly, he handed her a wadded up handkerchief and she dabbed eyes with it. Hermione found herself searching the crowd for Him. 

He was off by a tree, alone. His dark figure cut a startling contrast against the brightness of the sun, as if he didn't belong in the daylight. Hermione saw the thin puff of his breath in the November air and she thought it somehow fitting that he would chose to mourn alone. Minerva had told her in the strictest of confidence that Snape had come to Poppy after all the Death Eater revels a torn and broken man. Poppy had healed his wounds with tender words and loving magic and Snape had grown very attached to the motherly mediwitch. He had never publicly let on that he held any kind of affection for her. If Hermione hadn't heard it from Professor McGonagall, she never would have believed it. Her observation of Snape had been that he was a cold and harsh man, but his obvious grief at Poppy's death belied her previous impression. 

Settling an internal struggle, Hermione turned to Harry and whispered, "I'll be back, there's something I need to do." Harry just raised a questioning eyebrow, then shrugged. Taking a calming breath, Hermione walked over to where Snape was standing. 

He didn't acknowledge her at first. They stood in the silence, then Snape turned to her and said hoarsely, "Why are you here?" 

Hermione didn't answer for a moment. "Because you understand how I feel. Of everybody here, you know what a devastating blow this really is . . . what it is that we've truly lost." She turned to him and said simply, "Because I didn't want to be alone." She tilted her chin and looked into his eyes. 

He stared back at her with a breathtaking intensity, his eyes as dark as the midnight sun. "You're not," he said softly. 

They stood together during the ceremony, neither of them saying a word. When the ceremony was over, he turned to her and said something completely unexpected. "Thank you for staying with me." To further compound her confusion, he ran a gentle hand across her cheek, then abruptly turned and walked quickly away. 

__

What the hell?

If it hadn't been for the tingle left on her cheek from his touch, she would have sworn that she'd dreamt it. 

She didn't move for a long time. 

********************************** 

Two days after Madam Pomfrey was laid to rest, Draco Malfoy came calling. 

Hermione had just finished going over her arithmancy notes and was getting up for her second cup of tea when there was a soft knock on her door. 

Draco Malfoy stood before her, resplendent in dark green velvet robes, which set off the bright highlights of his hair. For the first time ever, she noticed how pretty his hair was: long, ice-coloured and unbound. He caught her staring and his silver eyes shined with amusement. He was holding a bouquet of white roses. 

"Honestly, Malfoy! Flowers?" Hermione couldn't stifle her giggle. 

"I'm not sure what white roses means, but my mother tells me that yellow roses means 'friendship', so that put a nix on the yellow ones. I certainly don't want to be your friend. No, my dear . . . I have better plans for us." 

"Oh put a sock in it and just come in." Draco grinned. Hermione put the flowers in a vase. 

"I thought tonight would be the perfect night for us to go public. Now put on something dressy but skimpy and go into the bathroom and do whatever it is that women do in the bathroom. We're going to Guido's." 

Hermione began to protest, but he tutted, "It's necessary. I'll explain it all when we get to the restaurant." She sighed in defeat. 

"Alright, but no kissing." 

"No promises." 

Guido's turned out to be a delightful little place, tucked away in a corner of Diagon Alley that was lightly traveled. It was very private, yet Hermione felt several eyes upon them when they walked into the restaurant. 

"Showtime," said Draco, as he leaned over and ran a sensuous tongue up the inside of her right ear. Hermione nudged him hard in the ribs. With a light laugh, Draco steered her toward a small, intimate table and playing the gentleman, he helped her off with her outer robe. Signaling the waiter, he ordered a bottle of Sangiovese in fluent Italian. Hermione couldn't help rolling her eyes. 

Once the waiter had been dispatched, Draco turned his attention to Hermione. "Don't let my manner fool you," he said. "I may have an irresistible charm, but I can assure you that I'm still a bastard." 

"I have no doubt," she answered before he continued. 

"This is no harmless game we're playing, but if we play the game, we must play to win. To lose is to die." He lifted Hermione's hand to his lips. "I have my reasons for betraying the Dark Lord, but that's a story for another time. Tonight, we get to know each other. If things go as planned, we will have to trust each other and tonight, it starts." He caressed Hermione's hand and kissed each of her fingertips. 

Hermione fought the urge to snatch her hand away from him. Sighing, she said, "Tonight it starts." 

They were so engrossed in each other that they didn't notice the dark-haired, attractive woman, who seemed to be having a hard time keeping her eyes off the couple. She was seated two tables away from them and appeared to be dining alone. 

Had they looked a little closer, Draco and Hermione would have been startled to recognize the black, obsidian eyes on the face of this unknown woman. Had they stepped a little closer, they would have noticed the barest shimmer of a glamour around those dark features. 

__

"Damn," thought Snape to himself. 

This was a new low, even for him. 

__

To be continued . . . 

************************************* 

Author's notes: So what's Snape up to now? Posing as a woman? I wonder what that's all about . . . (grins madly) 


	5. Chapter 4: Shadow

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com 

Disclaimer: This probably isn't a revelation, but I don't own the Harry Potter Universe, I just play in it. The plot is mine. 

******************************************** 

Between the desire   
And the spasm   
Between the potency   
And the existence   
Between the essence   
And the descent   
Falls the Shadow 

~ From the poem, "The Hollow Men" by T.S. Eliot 

******************************************* 

Chapter 4: Shadow 

Hermione slowly made her way to the Potions Lab, her notebook tightly clutched to her chest. She felt a vague anticipation at seeing Snape, but that was quickly stuffed down and instead she thought about the events of recent days. Dumbledore had set up her cover by announcing to the school that she was to be Madam Pomfrey's replacement and Hermione had tendered her resignation from St. Aloysius Hospital in London. She had assured the University that she was going to continue her research at Hogwarts, as it was equipped with a state-of-the art Potions Lab and the Library would be able to keep her well-stocked with needed reference books. 

The door of the Potions Lab was closed and knowing Snape's obsession with privacy, she thought it best to knock. 

"Enter!" Snape's voice was impatient. 

He was seated at his desk, his dark features scrunched into a typical scowl as he poured over the parchment he was reading. 

As he looked up, his face immediately changed and Hermione was surprised at the look of total relaxation on his face. Really! How did he do that? 

"You're staring at me, Dr. Granger. Have I suddenly grown another nose?" 

_"No",_ thought Hermione. _"It's just that I've never noticed that you're actually not a bad looking man, when you're not scowling._

Instead she said, "Mmmp." 

"How articulate," Snape said dryly. "Well, don't just stand there, girl! Let's see what you've written!" 

Hermione bristled. "In case you hadn't noticed, I am not a girl anymore," she huffed. 

"So I see. Now that we've established that fact, perhaps we could look at your notes?" 

They sat in silence, while Snape quickly read the first few pages of parchment. 

"Let me see if I have this correct. The Soul Gathering Potion starts by identifying the emotional body of the soul. It build receptors in the brain for those emotions identified as Anger, Hatred, Love, Fear, Joy and an illusive little emotion called, 'Peace'. He chuckled softly. "I wouldn't know 'Peace' if it reached up to bite me on the arse." 

For a moment he looked appalled at this personal revelation, but Hermione said smoothly, "Don't worry about it. We can make you a 'Peace' potion when this is all over. Who knows? Maybe you won't even need it." 

"Unlikely. In any event, I see you've worked out the arithmancy on how to do this first step. Very impressive. Unfortunately, for our purposes, it's backwards." 

Hermione began to talk excitedly. "But you see Professor, in doing the arithmancy, I've already worked out the magical structure of each emotion. Each emotion has an essence, a vibration, if you will, which I've identified in the hopes of designing a potion to build the brain receptors. But we can use that information to tell us what kind of energy is needed to shatter the magical properties of those emotions. For instance, there are a series of potion ingredients that induce the soul to love, be it platonic, romantic, or divine unconditional love. Each ingredient has a corresponding antidote. Do you remember how you used to drill us on potion ingredients and their antidotes? I must have memorized reams of parchment on that subject. I believe we can use what we know to identify those ingredients that will counteract the magical energies of Voldemort's emotions, love for instance. This isn't the same thing as building a potion to induce hate, am I right? I believe we can mix the ingredients in an unstable base material which will enhance its ability to shatter those emotions. It's going to take a lot of work because we'll have to make sure that the antidotes don't produce side-effects when they're mixed." 

"We could probably dispense with the ingredients for love, I doubt that Voldemort has ever had an inkling of love for anyone or anything." 

Hermione was stunned. To her utter astonishment, Snape gave her a crooked grin. 

"Oh! Oh, you're kidding. Of course you are," she murmured. 

"It may come as a shock to you, but I am capable of a joke. I just don't indulge in them very often." Snape continued thoughtfully, "Actually, we must be sure to include everything. We can't take anything for granted. If we miss a step or miss an ingredient, the potion will not work." 

They were discussing some of the properties of various well-known potions when a loud crackle was heard in the fireplace. Hermione and Snape looked up to see Albus' head floating in the fire. It never failed to frighten Hermione for just a few seconds, seeing a disembodied head talking to you as if it wasn't as weird as it really was. 

"Good evening, you two!" The Headmaster seemed to be in high spirits. Snape grunted a greeting at him. 

"If I may borrow Dr. Granger, I have need of her in the Hospital Wing. Don't worry, Hermione. It's not an injured student. It will probably come as no surprise to you that the number of accidents and traumas seemed to decrease upon the departure of a certain well-known trio. I believe you three hold the record for the number of visits to the infirmary?" 

Hermione smiled. "You're probably right. If it's not an injured student, then why do you need me, if I may ask?" 

"Ah, well. I neglected to tell you that before Madam Pomfrey died, she'd secured the services of an apprentice mediwitch by the name of Taryn Butler. Miss Butler is presently waiting for you in the infirmary. I thought it best to keep her as an assistant as you will no doubt be very busy with your research here in the Potions Lab." 

"Tell Miss Butler that I will be up shortly." 

When Albus disappeared, Hermione turned to Snape. "We can continue this tomorrow. For now, I think it's best if you read my materials. You've a lot of catching up to do." 

Snape already had his nose buried in her parchments. He gave her a distracted nod. 

As Hermione left the Lab, she felt a cold shadow of apprehension clutching at her heart. _"No,_ _this will work_," she said to herself. 

It had to. 

********************************************** 

Hermione made her way to the infirmary and was greeted by the Headmaster and a very pretty Taryn Butler. Miss Butler was tall, blond and had twinkling blue eyes the colour of the morning sky. Hermione immediately felt dowdy next to her. 

"Dr. Granger, this is Taryn Butler, your new assistant. Miss Bulter studied at St. Aloysius Hospital. I'm surprised you didn't run into each other." 

"Well," said Taryn, "I saw Dr. Granger around, but she was way out of my league. I'm just a simple mediwitch, but Dr. Granger belongs t the Order of Chiron. I wish I had the brains to get accepted at such an exclusive program." She turned to Hermione. "I heard that you finished your mediwitch instructions after just eight months. You must be brilliant." 

Hermione blushed. "Not really," she said modestly. "I'm just an obsessive student. I don't think it's healthy, really." 

Taryn smiled. "Brilliant and humble!" She added, "I hope my work will please you, Dr. Granger. I expect I'm going to learn a lot." 

Hermione felt immediately at ease. Albus gave them his leave and Hermione suggested a tour of the infirmary. As they were walking around, Taryn told her that she'd gone to Hogwarts, but that she'd been several years behind Hermione. She was a Ravenclaw. 

"I thought you looked a little familiar," said Hermione. "I guess we didn't have occasion to run into each other at school." 

Taryn laughed. "No, you were too busy with Harry Potter, fighting the forces of evil. I guess you could say that I ran with a different crowd. By the way, is Snape still here at Hogwarts?" 

"Oh yes," Hermione sighed. "I hope that won't be a problem for you. You'll probably run into him sometimes because he supplies some of the more complex potions for the infirmary. I know he can be an unpleasant git sometimes." 

"Oh, it's quite alright," countered Taryn. "Actually that's another thing I was looking forward to. I always thought he was rather dishy, didn't you? 

Hermione stared at her in disbelief. "Are we talking about the same man?" 

Taryn laughed again. "Oh come on, Dr. Granger! All that dark mystery? I always thought he was gorgeous, especially when he was demonstrating the preparation of his potions. I'd love to be the object of all that concentrated energy." 

"If you say so, Miss Butler. That reminds me . . . why don't you call me Hermione?" 

"Alright, Hermione. Please call me Taryn." 

Hermione steered her towards the storeroom. "I have lots of things to show you in here, Taryn." 

***************************************************** 

Draco Malfoy was relaxing in the vast gardens of his father's estate, swirling a snifter of brandy. His thoughts drifted back to the first time his father had taken him to one of his infamous "shake-downs". Draco had been eight years old when he watched Lucius beat the shit out of a wizard who didn't have enough money to pay off a large gambling debt. His father loved to gamble on Quidditch, which was rife was corruption, but such "shake-downs" had been small potatoes compared to what he got in shady business deals and outright thievery. It hadn't bothered Draco much until he had seen those shake-down skills applied to his mother. She hadn't gotten out of bed for weeks. That had been the beginning of the end for Draco, although he still loved the power that being on the Dark Side gave him. He wondered if he would ever be completely free of it. One thing was for certain, Draco needed to look out for number one and he had every intention of doing that. 

He felt a wave of nausea as his Dark Mark began to burn. Crap! Not now! 

Draco found himself prostrate before Voldemort before he could even blink. Confused, he looked around, his spy instincts telling him to gather as much information as he could as to his whereabouts. 

"Draco, my boy," said a high-pitched voice. 

"My Lord." He bent to kiss Voldemort's ring, trying not to gag. 

"Do you find me unpleasant, Mr. Malfoy?" 

"Yes I do, but you're the most powerful wizard on Earth and I admire that. It sort of cancels out your unpleasantness." 

For a moment, Voldemort's eyes narrowed. _"I've gone too far,"_ Draco thought in fear. 

As if sensing his discomfort, Voldemort let out a booming laugh. "You're honesty is refreshing, Mr. Malfoy. I hope for your sake that you're always as honest with me." 

Draco let out a relieved breath. "Certainly my Lord. How may I serve you?" 

"What news do you have of Dr. Granger? My Watchers tell me that you've been seen with her at Hogwarts and out in public, as well. How goes things?" 

"Well if your Watchers were thorough, they'd also be telling you that Dr. Granger can't keep her hands off me. It seems that she's all tied up in lustful knots." 

The Dark Lord looked pleased. "I take it she believes that you fancy her?" 

Draco inwardly shuddered at the Dark Lord's use of the word, 'fancy'. "I've completely swept her off her feet. In fact, we've made plans." 

"Plans?" 

"I'm taking her on holiday to Paris. Dr. Granger and I will spend the whole weekend in bed, if I have anything to say about it." 

"And she's agreed?" 

"Oh yes," Draco lied. "Why wouldn't she?" 

***************************************** 

Hermione was contemplating Taryn's assessment of Snape's charms when Albus intercepted her in the hallway. "Something has come up suddenly, and it seems that our plans are going to change. Please meet me in my office." 

Hermione was struggling with the Headmaster's latest password when she heard a sardonic voice behind her say, "Caramel Apples." Snape rolled his eyes in exasperation. "This obsession with sweets is going to be the ruin of him. It's a wonder his teeth haven't all rotted out." 

Albus gave them a warm greeting and when they were seated he said, "A copy of the Soul Gathering Spell has been found." 

Snape started. "Where?" he croaked. 

"Belize." 

"Did you just say Belize? As in Central America?" Hermione couldn't believe she'd heard him right. 

"The very one. It's located on the Yucatan Peninsula, just south of the southern tip of Mexico. It seems that a copy of the spell is guarded at the ruins outside of Settee Point. I have contacted the tribe's healer, a man by the name of Cristobel. He's expecting you both." 

"But I don't understand," said Hermione. "There are no known copies of the spell. All that has been written has been that which was passed on in the oral tradition. In fact, I've only been able to gather bits and pieces." 

"Ah, well. I did a little digging on my own. It helps to know obscure people in obscure places. Your comment about the spell being used by natives in the Americas got me to thinking about my old friend, Cristobel. He couldn't believe I was making an inquiry about The Soul Gathering Spell. It hasn't been used in centuries. It was too unpredictable and often resulted in the death of the person they were trying to help." 

"I suspect it's because they didn't use the corresponding potion," said Hermione. 

"If I may interrupt, Headmaster, but perhaps you've forgotten. I can't leave Hogwarts as I am the subject of intense interest by Voldemort and I doubt if my absence here would go unnoticed." Snape's voice was carefully neutral. 

Albus allowed himself an annoying twinkle of the eyes. "I've taken care of everything. Actually, I've had some help in the planning." 

"By whom?" Hermione was still reluctant to accept this. 

"By me." 

Oh, Hermione knew that voice anywhere. "Can't I get away from you for one day, Malfoy?" 

Draco entered the room with an air of triumph. 

"Actually, you're in luck. You're going to be away from me for several days, however, only the four of us in this room will know about it. Actually, there is one other person who will know-- a hand-picked Auror, who is going to wear a particularly clever glamour. Nobody will know it's not actually you, Hermione. And then she and I are going to take a whirlwind holiday to Paris. It's a pity that you won't be joining me, Paris is the City of Romance, you know. I do hope she's nicer to me than you are. Maybe she'll even put out for me and I can pretend it's you." 

"Blegh," was Hermione's response to Draco's crudeness. "You're taking my double to Paris?" 

Draco gave her an evil leer. 

"As amusing as this all is, how are you going to explain my absence?" Snape sounded doubtful. 

"You will be confining yourself to your quarters over the weekend," said Albus. "For those who inquire, I will tell them that you are indisposed. No offense Severus, but most of the students and staff know that you're predisposed to periods of deep melancholy. It won't surprise anybody that you want to be alone. The only creatures who would be attending to you would be the House Elves and they're loyal to a fault. They won't tell a soul that you're not actually in your rooms." 

"You've thought of everything, haven't you, Headmaster?" Snape said dryly. He turned his attention to Hermione. "Well Dr. Granger, it appears that we are going to Belize. Don't forget your sunscreen potion, I hear that the UV rays can be merciless there." 

Hermione sat in her chair, pressing her hands to her face. Her mind was racing. 

Two days in Belize. Two days alone with Severus Snape. 

TBC 

******************************************* 

Author's Note:  To those who have inquired:  No, I'm not changing the plot of the story, just a few minor details and descriptions.  Plus, I'm editing all my original spelling and grammar mistakes . . .  

Please continue to review, I love hearing from you! 


	6. Chapter 5: Closer

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


Author's Note: And the saga continues. I hope I capture some of the beauty of Belize, it's an incredible place. 

  
**********************************************************************  
You can have my isolation. You can have the hate that it brings.  
You can have my absence of faith.You can have my everything.   
Help me, you tear down my reason. Help me, it's your sex I can smell  
Help me, you make me perfect. Help me become somebody else. 

From the song "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails 

************************************************************ 

  
Chapter 5: Closer 

The trip to Belize had been tiring, to say the least. Hermione had fought down the feeling of motion sickness by the time they'd finally Apparated to a clump of mangrove trees located near the beach in Settee Point. They had taken a rambling path from Hogsmeade to Belize, Apparating first to Edinburgh, Scotland; then to Lisbon, Portugal; then on to the Azores Islands; on to Bermuda and finally to Belize. 

"You're looking a little green, Dr. Granger." 

"Was all that Apparating really necessary?" 

"Tsk, tsk . . . that sounded a little petulent." Snape's tone was teasing, however. "We couldn't Apparate directly, you know that. We would have splinched for sure." 

Hermione took in her surroundings. "Oh! It's breathtaking!" 

It was early evening and the sun was already setting, the sky a dazzling array of purple and pink. Settee Point was located on the east coast of Belize, and while they couldn't enjoy the sunset over the water, Hermione had the feeling that the sunrise was quite spectacular. The beach was white and infinite and the sand was very, very fine. The water rolled to the shore in gentle waves, crashing in the timeless sound that began before man or wizard even walked the Earth. 

There wasn't another person in sight. 

Hermione took off her shoes and dug her toes in the sand. She quickly flicked a glance at Snape, then looked away before he noticed her incredulous look. She had been standing in Harry's living room, waiting for him, when the front door had quietly swung open. Snape had impatiently shrugged off an Invisibility Cloak and Hermione barely had time to register his appearance before he'd taken her hand to Apparate to Edinburgh. 

She took a good hard look at him now and was secretly pleased at what she saw. He was wearing a white cotton shirt, the material rather rough and textured. It clung to him like a second skin and she had been surprised by the Potions Master's lean, but muscular build. However, the most amazing thing was the black denim pants and dragonhide boots he was wearing, which gave him a rather rakish appearance. Hermione was reminded of illustrations she'd seen of some of England's more notorius buckaneers. 

He'd tied his long hair back in a ponytail and small strands had escaped in the gentle breeze coming off the barrier reef. His usual guarded countenance had given way to a more relaxed, at-ease expression. Hermione suddenly had the urge to run her fingers through his hair. 

"You're staring again, Dr. Granger." 

"Erm, I'm sorry Professor, but I have to say that you look nothing like the man I remember from my school days. Oh, I didn't mean that you usually . . . that you look . . . " she stammered uncomfortably. 

Snape's mouth twitched. "You can thank Minerva for my make-over. She seemed to think that severe black robes would stand out in Paradise. I take it you approve?" 

Hermione grinned. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were fishing for compliments, Professor." 

"I'm not. But to change the subject slightly, I find your calling me 'Professor' rather incongruous, given that we're half the world away from Hogwarts. I will call you Hermione, for the duration of our trip, anyway. And you may call me Severus." Hermione inwardly shivered at the silky timbre of his voice. 

"OK, S-s-severus." This is going to take some practice, Hermione thought. 

Suddenly, they heard a soft popping sound behind them and they whirled in unison. Hermione noticed that Severus had placed a protective hand on her arm and had stepped in front of her, his movement an apparent instinctive reflex. 

"Dr. Granger and Professor Snape, I presume?" 

Standing before them was a small, rather shriveled old man. His face was dark and leathery and deep grooves ran over his forehead and along his prominent cheekbones. Long silver hair hung gracefully to his shoulders. His inky black eyes regarded them thoughtfully over his prominent nose, and Hermione thought that if she stared into his eyes too long, the history of Belize would be found in that gaze. 

"You must be Cristobel," Snape said smoothly. "Albus told me about your history with him. I'm having a hard time picturing our Headmaster on a jaguar hunt." 

Cristobel chuckled. "Ah yes, I remember. Jaguars are sacred to my people, but this particular jaguar was attacking children in the village. The people were wild with fear. It was fortunate that Albus was here, studying some of the wizard ruins. He has a real way with the wand. But that was at least a hundred years ago. Seems like only yesterday." 

"But sir," said Hermione. 

"Call me Cristobel." His voice was rather thin. 

Hermione grinned, "But Cristobel, if Albus was here, why didn't he know about the Soul Gathering Spell?" 

"Ah, that's easily explained. The Soul Gathering Spell can only be obtained by those with the right credentials. It's a very ancient, secret magic and it's closely guarded at the Temple of Ix Chel." 

"But if that's the case, then how are we going to get to it?" Snape looked worried at this revelation. 

Cristobel's eyes twinkled that universal "old man's twinkle." He gave Hermione a knowing look. "I have a feeling that you won't have a problem. Now, I'm sure you're both very tired. I'll take you to your rooms." 

********************************************************** 

Hermione had been surprised to find their quarters to be very luxurious, not to mention, very extensive. The hacienda was set on a cliff overlooking the beach and a narrow stone staircase lead from the house down to the water. Plush floral couches decorated the main living room and potted palms were scattered throughout. Hermione noticed a vase of beautiful red flowers on a small table by the couch and made a mental note to look them up in her handbook, "The Flora and Fauna of Belize". Cristobel explained that this house could not be seen by the average Muggle, in fact, when Muggles looked at the cliff, they only saw some palm trees and native bushes. 

They learned that Settee Point had a wizarding community located on the outskirts of town. Cristobel told them that all Mayan healers had been wizards and that except for healing purposes, wizards and Muggles did not mix. He added that he'd come from a long line of wizard healers. 

"Your English is quite spectacular," Hermione complimented him. 

"Too much muggle TV," said Cristobel. "I learned from watching re-runs of Gilligan's Island and Green Acres." He chuckled at Snape's look of disbelief. "It's a weakness of mine. I may be an old Mayan healer, but I still love the television." 

They were seated on a balcony off the central living room and Cristobel had thoughtfully conjured up a plate of figs, papayas, chunks of fresh coconut and some grapes. He also had conjured a bottle of red wine and some Ogden's Fire Whisky. He smiled at Snape's raised eyebrow. "I'm just trying to give you all the comforts of home. I can supply you with something more substantial, if you wish," the old man added. 

Hermione and Severus looked at each other and reading her thoughts, Severus said, "No, thank you, Cristobel. I think it's best if we eat lightly tonight. All our apparating has apparently given Dr. Granger a sour stomach." Hermione looked at him gratefully. 

Cristobel smiled. "I understand. Feel free to explore the house, it's rather nice, isn't it? I'll take my leave, you have a big day tomorrow. I'll be by in the morning to take you to the temple. We'll have to go by canoe." 

Hermione gaped at him. "Canoe?" 

"I'm afraid that we can't Apparate directly to the Temple of Ix Chel, Dr. Granger. It's rather like your Hogwarts, I gather. The temple served the wizarding community in central Belize for hundreds of years and it's unknown to Muggle society." 

"This is going to be interesting," Hermione muttered to herself. 

******************************************************************** 

Severus woke early the next morning and quickly ascertained that Hermione was still asleep. He secretly smiled to himself. He was enjoying her company more than he ever thought possible. He knew her to be very intelligent, but more than that, he was very pleased to find that she had a gentle humor. He had expected her to fall back on her old Gryffindor ways, but instead he had been surprised to find that she no longer had the annoying habit of chattering on about all the things she'd read, eager to show off her knowledge. 

He had taken a room next to hers, when they'd said their goodnights to each other. He'd tried not to imagine her roaming around in her room, wearing some sort of silky nightgown. He pictured her in something slinky, the colour of deep Slytherin green. A wizard could fantasize, couldn't he? 

Don't go there Severus, he thought. We're here on business. 

Besides, he doubted that he was emotionally equipped to deal with the rewards of a soft, beautiful woman. He thought back to all the horrible things he'd seen and done in his life and knew that Hermione deserved better than a middle-aged wizard with a very dark past. As if she'd even consider him. 

He sighed. 

Taking his coffee to the balcony, he was rewarded by the sight of the sun peeping up over the horizon of the ocean. Hermione should be here to see this, he thought. 

"Wow," said a soft voice behind him. 

He turned. Alright, so her nightgown wasn't green, but instead it was a light lavendar colour. She wore a matching robe over it, tied at the waist. The colour looked perfect against her dark, chestnut hair and he could see the soft curves of her breasts and hips. He quickly averted his eyes. 

Hermione took in his expression and realized that Severus was actually embarrassed. It amused her to no end. 

Clearing his throat, he said, "Yes, it's really beautiful isn't it?" Severus looked at her and thought, "Yes it is indeed beautiful." 

"It's spectacular. It makes me wish we didn't have to go back so soon. I think I could get used to this place." 

The stood together in silence and watched the sun rise. 

******************************************************************************* 

The canoe trip turned out to be quite enjoyable. They'd Apparated to a location on the New River, and had floated peacefully down the the river to the lagoon, which was situated near the ruins of Lamanai. The shores were dotted with Red and Black Mangrove, as well as Buttonwood trees. Cristobel had waved a lazy wand and the boat had propelled itself down the middle of the river. Howler monkeys screeched a warning to each other and Hermione had been entranced at the abundance of animal life all around them. 

Cristobel was telling Severus about the magical creatures that roamed the jungle. "We have our share of Acromantulas, but unlike those of the Forbidden Forest, they're quite colorful," he said. "They have voracious appetites, of course, and should be avoided at all costs. Most of the creatures are harmless, but I must warn you about the Hualthici. 

"Oh! I've read about those!" Hermione gave Severus an apologetic look. He merely rolled his eyes. 

"Yes, they're quite vicious. They are unmistakable when you see them. They have the body of jaguar and the head of a crocodile and unfortunately, the gods saw fit to also equipt them with the wings of the Laughing Falcon. They fly in flocks. If you see them, it's best to get out of their way. Their teeth are very sharp." 

Hermione couldn't hide her look of anxiety. 

Severus abruptly changed the subject. "I would like to collect some fresh flowers of the sapodilla tree. I believe that they have properties that will be useful in our potion. They're rather hard to find in Britain." 

Cristobel nodded. "You'll find the trees dotted around the Temple of Ix Chel. I'm sure you'll be able to find what you're looking for." 

Once the canoe landed, they walked along the path to a clearing in the forest. There, in splendid majesty, was the Temple of Ix Chel. The pyramid was perfectly intact, as if immune to the destructive forces of the harsh sun and creeping jungle. There had to be at least a hundred steps to the top. 

"I leave you here, my friends. I can go no further," said Cristobel. 

************************************************************************** 

The climb to the top was grueling and Hermione found herself panting alongside Severus. At the top of the temple there was a door carved with the figure of a priest in elaborate headdress. He was clutching what Hermione recognized to be a Soul Tube against his chest. She had read that the Soul Tube was a piece of hollowed out wood, usually made from a branch of black poison wood. The ends were adorned with two white lilies. The Mayans believed that the Soul Tube guided the Soul from the Earth to the Afterlife at the time of death. 

How fitting. 

As they made their way into the altar room, they were stopped by two fierce looking Mayans, who were guarding the entrance. They both wore matching headpieces of colorful feathers and their chests were adorned in beads of deep green jade. 

And they didn't look happy to see them. 

Snape uttered a couple of words Hermione didn't recognize and their scowls deepened. 

"What did you say?" she asked. 

"I asked them for the Soul Gathering Spell, of course. Albus had me practicing my Yucotec Mayan before we left. You look surprised." 

Before she could answer, one of the warriors pointed at her and began talking excitedly to the other. Hermione realized that they were pointing at the sapphire pendant around her neck. 

She had instinctively worn her robes of the Order of Chiron, although she couldn't say why. It became evident that this had been a wise choice as the warriors lead her to a large mural on the west side of the Temple. The Goddess Ix Chel had been painted on it and Hermione gasped to see her wearing a matching sapphire pendant, with rays of light coming out of the gem. 

"Oh! That's what Cristobel meant when he said we wouldn't have trouble obtaining the spell!" 

Walking over to a large recess in the wall, one of the warriors pulled out a parchment from a clay urn, which was decorated with large pieces of amythest and malachite. 

Snape was pleased. He examined the delicate parchment. "It appears that our mission has been a success. I can decipher some of the hierglyphics, but Albus is the real expert." 

He looked into Hermione's excited face and couldn't help giving her a wide smile. 

He didn't remember ever smiling so much in a twenty-four hour period. 

"What are you doing to me, Hermione?" he thought. 

*********************************************************************** 

Going down the steps was certainly easier than going up them, Hermione decided. Once they reached the bottom, Severus began to scout the area for sapodilla. "We're looking for a variety of evergreen, Hermione," he said. "The flower is small and white and very fragrant. They're not hard to miss. I think it's best if we split up, it'll go faster that way." 

Hermione pulled out her wand and found a path leading towards the lagoon. Scanning the trees, she noticed what looked to be the correct tree about fifty meters from the temple. She was so excited to see it that she didn't notice the jungle getting very quiet. 

She was reaching for a blossom when the air was pierced by the sound of high-pitched screeching. Looking up in horror she realized that a flock of foul-looking creatures were descending upon her. She pointed her wand but it was too late, they attacked with a single-minded frenzy. 

Hualthici! 

One of the creatures reached her as she gripped her wand, it's crocodile jaws snapping with ferocious menace. As she swung her arm in defense, her wand dropped to the ground. 

"Severus!" she screamed. 

She continued fighting them, but they dove at her, tearing at the flesh of her arms as she tried to protect her head. "Severus!" 

He was there in an instant. Wand blazing, he cast a spell that caused them to instantly incinerate in a huge ball of green fire. They were showered with ashes, and the dying screams of the animals echoed throughout the jungle. 

Hermione was lying on the ground, whimpering in pain and fear. Severus gathered her in his arms. 

"It's alright. I'm here. I won't let anything hurt you, I promise. Shhhh. Shhhh. I'm here . . . I'm here." He clutched her tightly. 

When Cristobel found them, they were still holding each other, Severus softly crooning to her as she cried. 

TBC 

****************************************** 

Author's notes: Gee whiz, that took a lot of research! I hope it was worth it. By the way, Ix Chel is the Mayan Goddess of Childbirth and Healing. Her name means, "She of the rainbow." Pretty cool, huh? 

As always, please review. I really want to know what you think! 


	7. Chapter 6: Everything

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com 

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, yadda, yadda. 

Author's note: Don't forget that this fic is rated R for language and sexual situations. If you're not of age, you shouldn't be reading this. 

********************************************* 

And the sky was made of amethyst.   
And all the stars were just like little fish.   
You should learn when to go.   
You should learn how to say no.   
Might last a day, yeah.   
Minus forever.   
Might last a day, yeah.   
Minus forever.   
When they get what they want, then they never want it again.   
They get what they want, and they never want it again.   
Go on, take everything, take everything, I want you to.   
Go on, take everything, take everything, I want you to. 

~ From the song, "Violet" by Hole 

************************************************* 

Chapter 6: Everything 

  
Cristobel gently put a hand on Severus' shoulder and the younger man started in surprise. He had been so wrapped up in comforting Hermione that he hadn't noticed the Healer's approach. 

"Severus, let me see her, I need to tend to her quickly." 

Severus reluctantly moved away from Hermione as she let out a cry of protest. "I'm not going anywhere," he reassured her. 

Cristobel pulled out his wand and a colorful pouch from his robe pocket. He bent down to Hermione and made note of the deep scratches and puncture marks that were scattered around her face and arms. Her robes were torn and there was a smattering of blood around the sleeves. Taking his wand, he murmured a spell in Yucotec and the wounds began to glow a deep green. "I'm pulling out some of the poison," he explained. "Hualthici have a very mild poison that they use to paralyze their prey. It's not fatal to humans, but it can make a person very sick for several days if it's not drawn out." He continued his spell and the wounds began to fade and close. Hermione became visibly relaxed and to Severus' relief, she ceased her whimpering. Cristobel pulled out a vial from his pouch and said, "Pain potion," at Severus' questioning look. With Severus anchoring her head, Cristobel gently encouraged Hermione to drink the potion and she scrunched her face at the bitter taste. She laid back and slurred, "Severus," as he moved closer again, taking her in his arms. "I'm here," he whispered to her. 

"We need to get her back to the canoe, Cristobel." 

Cristobel took off a colorful shawl he'd been wearing and wrapped it around Hermione. "It's been charmed," he told Severus. "It gives the wearer a feeling of well-being. I'm actually rather addicted to it, but given the circumstances, I think I can give it up." 

Severus could have used a spell to move her, but chose instead to lift her and carry her gently to where the canoe was resting on the shore of the New River Lagoon. As he climbed into the boat, he made a movement to lay her down on the bottom and she tightened her grip on him. "No," she protested. "Don't leave me." Instead, Severus sat down and laid her across his lap. She buried her face in his neck and gave an odd sigh of contentment. As he settled in, he noticed that Hermione's wounds were visibly fading. She snuggled in closer and Severus swallowed, a tight feeling in his throat. He could feel every soft curve against his body and to his disgust, he felt himself involuntarily harden. However, it did not cause him to loosen his grip on her. 

Once they got back to the house, Severus carried her to her bedroom and laid her on the bed. Hermione was very groggy and within seconds she was fast asleep. Severus left the room for the moment, telling Cristobel that they'd been successful in obtaining The Soul Gathering Spell and that he was going to take care of Hermione. When she was able to travel, they were going to go back to Hogwarts. Severus shook Cristobel's hand and thanked him for all his help. 

"May the gods watch your back, Professor Snape." With a slight bow, Cristobel left the hacienda. 

Severus returned to Hermione's room and noted that she was still dressed in her torn robes. With shaky hands, he began to remove them. He felt conflicted. On the one hand she needed to get out of her clothes, yet on the other hand, he didn't know if he'd be able to control his reaction at seeing her half naked. He undressed her methodically and couldn't help but take in the softness of her skin beneath his hands. He tried to avert his eyes as he slipped off her dress, but found himself staring at her in wonder. He was a man, after all. 

"Merlin help me," he whispered. 

Once he'd slipped her out of her clothing, he pulled the sheet and coverlet over her body. Her hair obscured her face and Severus gently moved it away, allowing himself the luxury of running his fingers through the springy curls. For a few minutes he stroked her hair and face and Hermione let out a deep, contented sigh. 

He fought the urge to climb into her bed and press his body against the length of hers. 

He had to get out of there. 

Fighting the arousal that was coursing through his body, he made his way down to the beach. A swim was just the thing to clear his head. 

********************************************************************** 

Harry sat in the darkness of his living room, his mind too dark to brighten with a light from the fire. He was well into a bottle of Muggle vodka as he tried to drink his misery away. 

He felt completely useless. 

All his life he had been hailed as a hero, when the reality was, he was just a bloody lucky bloke. He could never understand how he was famous for a sacrifice that had been made by his mother. In fact, when he looked back on his short life, he realized that he had never used his own skill to defeat Voldemort in all the times they'd battled. He always had Hermione and Ron to help him. Even during his battle with Voldemort after The Triwizard Tournament, he had been saved by the simple fact that both his and Voldemort's wand had shared a core of phoenix feathers from Fawkes. Just a coincidence, really. Harry took another deep drink from his tumbler. 

Sirius had just owled Harry, telling him that he'd tracked Voldemort to Bulgaria, but that he'd arrived too late to pinpoint his location. By the time he'd reached the rundown house where Voldemort had been staying, the Dark Lord was already gone. Sirius had the vague impression that he might be back in England, but the intelligence was unreliable. He assured Harry that it was only a matter of time before they found Voldemort. Harry had his doubts. 

Harry was having a hard time lifting his mood of despair. His life felt so empty. He spent his days in Auror training and had some successful jaunts against some of Voldemort's Death Eaters. A particularly vivid memory sprang up and Harry thought about Draco Malfoy. 

He had been tracking a group of Death Eaters in the Black Forest in Germany when he'd been surprised by the apparition of two Death Eaters as he'd sat down to rest and eat his lunch. Fumbling for his wand, he'd been caught totally unprepared and had been pretty sure that his life was over. Unexpectedly, as the Death Eaters had turned their wands on him, a soft familiar voice had uttered, "Avada Kedavra" and Harry had closed his eyes. He wasn't prepared for what happened next: One of the Death Eaters had pointed his wand at the other and the unfortunate Death Eater had died where he stood. Looking up in astonishment, Harry saw the second Death Eater pull off his hood and mask. He recognized the familiar smirk of Draco Malfoy. 

"Are you going to eat the rest of that sandwich? I'm starving." 

Harry allowed himself a small chuckle at the memory. 

Draco sat with Harry that day and they'd come to an understanding. Draco explained to him that being a Death Eater had lost his lustre for him. He'd confessed that he wanted something more for his life and it was then that "Draco The Spy" had been born. Draco had proven himself reliable and had Harry had come to reluctantly respect the little wanker. They would never be friends, but they were allies in the fight against the Dark Lord. Draco had taken a huge risk saving Harry that day. If Voldemort had administered Veritaserum or if he'd performed a Priori Incantatem on his wand, Draco would have been a dead man. 

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on his door. Uttering a spell, the door shimmered to invisibility and Harry saw Ginny Weasly standing on his porch. He opened the door and Ginny pushed her way past him. 

"You're drunk." She stated the obvious. 

"What do you want, Ginny?" 

"We need to talk." 

"I think we've done all the talking we need to do," answered Harry, as he reached for his bottle again. 

Ginny snatched the bottle from his hand. "I think not," she said softly. "Please, Harry." 

"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?" he shouted. "I can't be what you want me to be, Ginny! I can never be what you want!" He grabbed her to push her back out the door. 

Pummeling his chest, Ginny shouted back, "I don't care about that! I don't care what you can be for me! I love you, you stupid git!" 

They struggled together for a few moments. Harry groaned and buried his hands in her hair. "I need you, Ginny," he whispered in desperation. 

"I know," she whispered back. 

Lifting her up against his body, he grabbed her by her thighs and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, all biting and sucking, as Harry carried her to his bedroom. 

******************************************************************* 

Peter Pettigrew approached the Dark Lord, holding a sheath of papers in his hand. He couldn't hide his shaking hands as the papers rustled. 

"My Lord," he stammered. 

"Do you have news, Peter?" Voldemort practically purred in anticipatory satisfaction. 

"Yes my Lord. The Watchers have been following Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger in Paris." 

"And?" 

"And, well . . . it seems that they've created something of a stir." 

"Go on!" snapped the Dark Lord. 

"It seems that Mr. Malfoy and Dr. Granger were arrested last night in Paris. Apparently the Muggle police were called to a disturbance and found Mr. Malfoy . . . uh, they were . . . well they were frolicking naked in the Fountain of the Champs Elysees. They made a total spectacle of themselves and well . . . they were very drunk, my Lord." 

To his utter surprise, Voldemort began to laugh. 

  
"Excellent! Excellent! A public spectacle! And the aftermath?" 

"Well, one of our Watchers, it was Turner, I believe, intercepted the arresting officer to ask him about the incident. The stupid Muggle had no idea what Turner was talking about." 

"Ah, young Malfoy cast the Obliviate on him, I'm sure. That boy always could think well on his feet! I am very pleased. I'll have one of my undercover Death Eaters 'accidentally' tell Potter about the incident. There is a certain young wizard on Mr. Potter's amateur Quidditch team who is secretly working for me. I can't wait to hear Potter's reaction to the news!" 

"Yes, my Lord." Wormtail couldn't get away fast enough. 

*********************************************************************** 

Hermione woke to darkness in her room. For a moment, she was disoriented and couldn't remember where she was. Suddenly it all came back to her: the Hualthici, Cristobel's healing, the canoe trip back to the house and Severus' strong arms wrapped around her. Looking down, she noticed that she was dressed only in her bra and underwear and she flushed. 

Severus. 

He must have undressed her while she was sleeping. While that thought should have made her uncomfortable, Hermione couldn't help shivering at the thought of his hands undressing her. Getting unsteadily to her feet, she pulled on a loose gauzy dress and walked to the living room, calling for him. She found the shawl that Cristobel had given her and she pulled it around her body. 

Finding no answer, she surmised that he'd probably gone out to the beach. Needing some fresh air, Hermione made her way down to the water. She held on tightly to the handrails as she was still a little dizzy, but she felt no pain, which was a great relief. 

The night was lit by a bright full moon in the cloudless sky. The sand seemed to glow mysteriously in the light and the night was warm and clear. As she stood by the grove of trees where they'd first arrived, she noticed clothing neatly folded at the base of one of the trees. Before she could process that thought, she looked up to see Severus rising from the water, a male version of Botticelli's Venus. 

He was completely naked. 

Hermione hungrily took in the vision. Severus had turned his back to her and was looking out to the water, his body glistening as the rivulets of water ran down his back. He was lean and taut and she noted in particular that he had a very attractive backside. Who would have thought? As she gazed further, the thought occurred to her that no, he wasn't Venus, he reminded her of Michaelangelo's David. As he turned around, Hermione amended that thought. He looked like David, only with a bigger --- 

She flushed. 

Walking with a feline grace, he made his way over to a large rock that sat a small distance away from the surf. As he perched on the rock, he leaned back, arching as he did so. 

Hermione dropped to her knees. 

She was vaguely aware of a slight tingle between her legs and her breathing became rapid, her mouth dry. She thought that he was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She was close enough to hear him give a soft sigh and noticed that as he did so, he became more and more apparently aroused. 

Merlin! 

Hermione was dying to know what he was thinking, what was affecting him so. She secretly hoped that she had something to do with it as she had suddenly come to a profound epiphany. 

She wanted him. She wanted him badly. 

Severus moved suddenly and the next thought that occurred to her gave her pause. What if he caught her peeping at him? She didn't think she would be able to stand the mortification. Making her way hurriedly back to the house, she prayed that he didn't see her. In her haste, she didn't notice that she'd dropped her shawl by the grove of trees. 

Severus walked leisurely over to his clothes and as he bent to pick them up, he noticed a bright shawl lying on the sand next to a tree. Taking it in his hands, he lifted it up to his face and inhaled deeply. Her scent clung to the material. He allowed himself a satisfied smile. 

Whistling as he got dressed, he made his way back to the house. 

Had he not been so wrapped up in his own thoughts he might have noticed a pair of eyes peering at him from behind another distant clump of trees. They were narrowed and had he stepped closer, Severus would have seen that they were a bright, sky blue colour. 

And they looked very angry. 

_To be continued . . .  _

****************************************************************** 

Author's note: I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. A naked Sevvie! (sigh) 

Please review, eh? 


	8. Chapter 7: Waking

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


Author's Note: One of my reviewers thought it would be great if someone were to draw a picture of Severus Snape rising out of the water, all wet and glorious . . . the only thing I could picture was Snape on an oyster half-shell, perched on the surface of the sea, his hands discreetly covering himself between the legs. A wonderful idea, but Botticelli would be spinning in his grave . . . 

Again, this fic is rated R for language and sexual situations. Just a reminder! 

And now, on with the show: 

*************************************************** 

Your gentle verses, tender, teasing, bold,  
fall fair to heart's awake, evoking bliss  
and blush of words. Each moment do I hold  
as sweetly stirring as a morning kiss. 

But fragile flows the blood through vacant veins  
as slow, the journey into warmth begins.  
In hollow chambers, only doubt remains  
beneath Desire's ever aching skin. 

~From the poem "My Waking Heart" by Claire Brown Bower 

*********************************************** 

Chapter 7: Waking 

Pacing his room at 2:00 in the morning, Severus found that waking up in a cold sweat gave him a different perspective regarding the events of the previous day. He'd left the beach, his body all a-tingle with thoughts of Hermione watching him while he sexually fantasized about her. When he came back to the house, he'd checked on her but she was fast asleep in her bed, her back turned away from him. He took the time to have a glass of wine, and mentally replayed everything that had occurred over the course of the last twenty-four hours. He was still processing his thoughts when he retired, asleep almost before his head hit the pillow. He was vaguely aware of swirling dreams with soft sighs and wild, wet kisses and his body relaxed in contentment. Amazing really, as a peaceful sleep was almost unheard of given his recent history. 

Three hours later, with the suddeness of an unexpected death, he found himself immediately awake, his mind in a state of chaos. She was his first thought. 

It was the rainy season in Belize and while they'd been blessed with glorious weather for two days, the heavens had opened up in the middle of the night and sheets of rain were hitting the hacienda with terrific force. The darkness of his bedroom was punctuated by flashes of lightening, the random pattern reflecting the scattered nature of his thoughts. 

He'd been so tangled up in Hermione Granger that he was in danger of completely losing himself at the mere thought of her. The reality of her would be even worse for him, as he didn't even know who he was when he was with her. He couldn't believe that he'd lost control of his life in such a short period of time. 

It was time to take back that control. 

While there was nothing he could do about his status as "Traitor Extraordinare", he could certainly keep himself from foolishly falling in love . . . or in lust, anyway. He could not allow himself to become distracted by thoughts of either, there was too much at stake. 

He let out a quiet groan. Why the fuck was he thinking about love? This thing he was feeling was mere lust and nothing more. He could deal with it. He hadn't been in love since before he joined forces with Voldemort and even then, he couldn't say that it was really love. It was more like the deep longing for something he'd never had before. His parents . . . they'd certainly never loved him, of that he was sure. Instead, they'd looked upon him as an irritation, an intrusion into their private little world. Thankfully, they'd limited their damage to their only child, so at least he was spared from having to share his pain with other siblings. He learned early on to deal with his suffering alone and in silence. Both selfish, his parents had barely tolerated his presence, and it had been with a sense of relief that he'd gone away to school at Hogwarts. In his seventh year, he'd fallen for a girl in Ravenclaw, but her family had deemed him unsuitable and the relationship had been abruptly severed. He still hadn't recovered when he joined the Death Eaters a year later. An emotional cripple, Voldemort had played upon his insecurities, making him an easy mark for manipulation. 

After two months in the Dark Lord's service, he'd forgotten all about love. It had drained away from his psyche like blood from a wound. 

"This is pointless," he said to himself. 

He could never be that young boy again-- trusting, open-- sharing the secrets of his heart with another. Simply put, he could never go back. 

Putting a halt to his pacing, he eyed his bed with distrust, as if it was the cause of all his turmoil and all of his sweet dreams. Lying back down, he willed himself to go to sleep -- 

To go to sleep and dream of nothing. 

*************************************************** 

Hermione felt infinitely better when she woke up the next morning. Pausing to give a cat-like stretch, she closed her eyes blissfully and smiled a secret smile. 

Her thoughts drifted to the previous evening and to the sight of Severus Snape rising from the water, a vision of her deepest fantasies. It was ridiculous, really . . . he'd been her teacher for seven years and nothing in their previous acquaintance had prepared her for what had been revealed to her. How could her view of him have changed so drastically in such a short time? Sitting up in bed, she thoughtfully chewed on her lip, a habit from her days at Hogwarts. 

What did this mean? She knew that she wanted him, but for what, she couldn't say. No doubt, she found him beautiful, and perhaps that was enough to tilt her world off its axis. Her mind betrayed another image of him, in the Shrieking Shack ten years earlier . . . his oily hair clinging to his skull, his face contorted in hatred and spittle flying from his mouth as he poured out his rage. So much ugliness wrapped up in a tall, spare frame. She'd hated him then. 

Who was he, really? Was he Michaelangelo's David or was he Dante's Lucifer? 

Both, probably. 

He had been so gentle and kind in the aftermath of her attack from the Haulthici. His eyes had held a tenderness and concern that she knew had been reluctantly wrenched from him in an unguarded moment. Wrapped in his arms, she'd felt safer than she'd ever felt before, cliche as that sounded. No matter what happened between them in the future, she knew that she'd been an unexpected witness to a part of himself that he'd held tightly for most of his life. Perhaps only a select few had ever seen him like that-- Poppy certainly, and probably Albus and Minerva as well. 

She unwillingly thought of Viktor Krum. Her experience with the opposite sex had been rare, to say the least. She had always regarded love as something more important to others . . . . Ron for example. While Harry had coveted it as something he felt he could never have, Hermione had always viewed romantic love with a jaundiced eye. It wasn't that she didn't think it desirable, it just wasn't necessary. Love wasn't going to get her where she wanted to go, although she learned that channeling love was important in healing and therefore, as a matter of necessity, she'd willed herself to bring it forth during times of healing. It had taken a lot of soul searching on her part to even attempt to explore those feelings. But loving another to the point of distraction was not something she was willing to do. Viktor had professed his undying love and her reponse to that was to make a hasty retreat, telling him that she wasn't ready for it and she didn't know if she ever would be. They'd parted bitterly and she never saw or spoke to him again. 

Why on earth was she thinking about love after twenty-four hours alone in Severus' company? 

Shaking her head, she climbed out of bed and padded to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her skin was smooth and unblemished and she looked at her reflection in wonder. Just a few hours ago she had been torn and bleeding and now she had a look about her of a woman reborn and newly awakened. 

Deep in her heart, she knew that love could be untamed and wild, and that she feared nothing more than love's disorder. It wasn't something she could study and predict and it wasn't something that she could put in a cauldron to mix with other ingredients until she got it right. 

God, she as so confused. Maybe she should just shag Severus and get it over with. Maybe then she could just move on with her life and things could go back to the way they'd always been. 

"You're delusional, Hermione," she thought. 

Running a restless hand through her tangled hair, she wondered how she was going to face him this morning. 

****************************************************** 

Harry rolled over in bed and instinctively reached out to the pillow next to his. He was alone. 

Slowly unfogging his brain, he opened his eyes to the blurry visions of shapes and colours that always greeted him first thing in the morning. Blindly, he reached for his glasses. 

It was as if she'd never been there. 

Sighing, he allowed himself a moment of self-pity then the familiar feelings of self-disgust overtook him, tightening his body into a defensive ball on the bed. 

Last night with Ginny had been a mistake. 

He couldn't really blame it on the vodka . . . instead, he chalked it up to weakness, pure and simple. He knew that Ginny loved him, but the reason had always eluded him. For as long as he'd known her, she'd pursued him with a single-mindedness that wore him down and secretly made him angry. Why couldn't she just leave him be? Why did she cling to him, only to be disappointed again and again? There was nothing in her history to suggest such neediness, she'd always been the much-loved daughter of emotionally indulgent parents. She had been treated like a little princess by her brothers, yet she took his repeated rejection of her as something to be accepted and endured. She was so sure that some day he would come to his senses. 

Harry had enough self-insight to realize that his problem with Ginny was that she *wanted* something from him, unlike Ron and Hermione. He suspected that she was looking to fill the void left her from Tom Riddle's manipulation of her during her first year at Hogwarts. Perhaps she thought that if she could make Harry Potter love her, then everything that happened in The Chamber of Secrets could be truly forgotten. He'd told as much to Ron, who had dismissed his thoughts on the subject, saying that Ginny was just fine. The problem was with Harry. 

He sighed again. Why was he so fucked up? 

Harry had to admit that he knew the answer to that question. For all of his early life he'd seen the interactions that passed for "normal" family life while with the Dursleys. It wasn't until he got older that he realized just how sick they really were. When he came to Hogwarts, he drank in the affection of his friends, his Headmaster and Hagrid with a thirst that was never satisfied, at least at first. Initially, he'd suspected that they loved him because of who his parents were and the fact that he was "famous", but he eventually realized that it didn't work that way, especially with Hermione and Ron. For a while he was even hopeful that someday he would find his "perfect" girl, the one who was meant for him. He'd flirted and lusted and secretly fantasized. Then came his fourth year. 

After the death of Cedric Diggory, he'd seen love's gleam slowly leak from the eyes of the girl he secretly loved. Deep in his heart, he'd always figured that Cedric would tire of Cho Chang and that he'd be there to pick up the pieces. "Don't cry, Cho, he's just a stupid git, not worth your time." He'd imagined them getting closer and closer until one day she would look at him and realize that he, Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, was the love of her life. He'd defeat the Dark Lord, they'd get married and have lots and lots of babies, just like the Weasleys. 

Instead, it was as if every happy molecule in her body had fled that day, until her eyes became vacant and she neglected her appearance, rarely speaking aloud. Harry had tried to get close to her, but she'd only looked at him as if she couldn't remember who he was. Finally, in her sixth year, she left for good, transferred to another school. 

Which brought him back to Ginny. 

In the aftermath of their lovemaking, she'd molded her body to him, whispering in his ear that she loved him. He'd involuntarily stiffened and the silence between them had yawned wide and uncomfortable. She could sense his withdrawal. He'd patted her head like she was a little puppy that needed to be quieted and she'd rolled over on her side, her back facing away from him. He tried softly apologizing to her, but she said it was alright, that she knew things had not really changed between them. 

And now she was gone. 

Getting up from bed, he pulled on his boxers, shivering in the cold morning air. He'd have to light a fire, it looked to be particularly brisk this morning. 

He was just unwrapping his copy of The Daily Prophet when Ron's head appeared in the fireplace. "Harry! Are you up yet?" 

"Ron! Where the hell have you been? I'd heard that you were secretly training. Since when is a Top Secret Mission a secret even from me?" 

"I'm coming over, I'll explain everything." 

In an instant, Ron was standing in Harry's living room, his bright hair all covered in soot, and a crooked smile on his face. 

"Bloody hell, Harry! You look like shite, if I may say. What's going on?" 

Harry swallowed hard. 

********************************************************************** 

Draco Malfoy roused himself from a heavy sleep, and the noise in his brain made him give an involuntary, loud groan. God, he couldn't even lift his head, it hurt so much! Champagne didn't usually give him a hangover, but in his drunken exuberance, he'd seen fit to mix several kinds of alcohol together, depending upon what caught his fancy in the liquor cabinet. 

He was paying for it now. 

When he'd finally willed himself to open one eye, he found that he'd fallen asleep with his head at the foot of the bed, tangled up in series of heavy sheets and blankets. He was sweating like a Sumo wrestler. A dainty feminine foot was nudging his cheek and he suddenly remembered that he wasn't alone. Turning his head, he gently bit her on the big toe. 

When she suddenly lifted her head to look at him, Draco had to keep himself from screaming and running from the room. "Hermione" lifted an eyebrow and gave him a self-satisfied look. 

"Hey, lover boy." 

Draco scowled. He hated being called that, it was so cheap and common. "Hermione is a tart, Hermione is a tart," he chanted in his head. That made him snicker. 

He opened his mouth to speak. All he could manage was the word, "Gah." 

Shaking off the blankets, she got up from the bed, unself-consciously exposing him to all her naked glory. He looked at her in appreciation, although it hurt to move his eyeballs. 

He'd personally overseen her transformation to "Hermione", and he had to admit that whatever else he thought about Granger, he was observant enough to realize that she hid a stunning body underneath the layers of robes and heavy sweaters that she frequently wore. He'd caught a glimpse of it the evening that he'd taken her to Guido's and he'd expertly memorized every detail of her curves. It came in handy when it came time to tranform the unknown Auror into Hermione Granger. 

As "Hermione" walked over to the closet to fetch her robe, he asked her, "What is your name, really?" 

"It's not important, in fact, it's better that you don't know. That way, you won't accidently call me by my name in front of any Watchers Voldemort has posted to spy on us here in Paris." 

Draco remembered the previous evening and flushed at the memory. During the height of their passion, he'd moaned Hermione's name until he'd actually shouted it at the time of his release. How bloody embarrassing. 

As if sensing his thoughts, the Auror gave him a knowing wink and said, "Dr. Granger should be flattered." 

"If you ever breathe a word of this, I'll find out who you are and hunt you down like an animal. Then you'll wish you'd chosen another profession." 

"Down boy," she said in amusement. "I have no intention of 'breathing a word.' In this business, the best way to stay alive is to follow orders and keep your mouth shut. It's too bad you're so hung up on Hermione Granger, I'd like to take you on a real spin, myself. No matter though, I think we've met our objectives. Word should be filtering back to Voldemort about our adventures in public nudity last night." 

"First of all," he snarled, "I don't have a 'thing' for Hermione Granger. And secondly, it's going to take more than last night's festivities to convince the Dark Lord that Hermione Granger is madly in love with me. Although, it's a good start," he added. 

"Yes," she said. "Although I don't understand why it's so important that Voldemort think you're having a love affair with Dr. Granger." 

"You don't need to know anything. You're only to do what you're told." Getting up from the bed, he staggered unsteadily to the liquor cabinet. 

"Don't tell me you're going to have another round." 

He rolled his eyes at her. "Are you daft?" He pulled out a bottle of Madam Malarky's Anti-Hangover Potion and Hair Tonic. "I wonder what this stuff does to your hair?" he thought to himself absently. It certainly tasted like how he thought hair tonic would taste. 

Taking a generous swig, Draco thought about his next move. He knew that Snape and Granger were due back to Hogwarts later on this afternoon. It was important that he speak to her right away so that they could get their stories straight. He smirked to himself. 

Granger was going to kill him. 

************************************************* 

Author's Note: I found the poem "The Waking Heart" on a website dedicated to the poetry of Claire Brown Bowen. You can click here for a wonderful copy of the poem and I was particularly struck by the painting illustrating the poem. I'd like to think of it as Hermione, after feasting her eyes on Severus as he came out of the water. Here's the link: 

  
Also, you'll notice that Draco does a lot of smirking in this story . . . it's the closest thing he has to a smile. 

And finally I'd like to thank my wonderful new beta, Elizabeth. Her contribution was invaluable (did I spell that right, girlie?)   



	9. Chapter 8: Games

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


  
Disclaimer: See prologue 

Rated R for language and sexual situations, as always. 

Author's notes: A special thanks to all who have reviewed. Your comments are taken to heart and they help me in my effort to make this a better story. Please continue letting me know what you think, and if you like or dislike the direction this is going. It's most helpful. 

And now back to "Shattered": 

***************************************************** 

We're playing those mind games together   
Pushing the barriers, planting the seeds   
Playing the mind guerrilla   
Chanting the mantra, peace on earth   
We've all been playing those mind games forever   
Some kinda druid dudes lifting the veil   
Doing the mind guerilla   
Some call it magic, the search for the grail 

~From the song, "Mind Games" by John Lennon 

***************************************************** 

Chapter 8: Games 

When they'd finally reached Hogwarts on Sunday afternoon, Hermione and Severus had abruptly parted company, a tense silence between them. Making his way to the Potions Lab, Severus rubbed his temples, trying to alleviate the onset of a migraine. He allowed himself a moment from his frantic organization of parchments and potions ingredients to contemplate what had happened earlier that day. 

He closed his eyes and remembered. 

Sunday morning had greeted Severus all bright and sunny, as if the night's storm had been only a dream. He'd sleepily lurched into the main living area and was greeted by the sight of Hermione out on the balcony. She'd lifted her leg to a chair was pulling at a stray thread on the hem of her robes, deep in concentration with her task. It was a simple gesture, but the beauty of it blinded Severus and for a moment he stood still to take in the sight of her. Her body was curved gracefully against her leg and the sun caught glints of gold in her otherwise dark hair. The backdrop of the ocean was breathtaking. 

Finding himself regarding her without her knowledge once again, he wondered about his tendency to spy on her. He inwardly cringed at the memory of watching her and Draco Malfoy at that Italian restaurant. He'd transfigured himself into a woman, for Godsakes! Had he no pride? 

Clearing his throat, he caught her attention and she looked up at him, wide-eyed. For a few seconds Severus forgot his resolve of last night. She was really beautiful. Why hadn't he seen it before? 

"I can do this," he thought to himself. 

Forcing neutrality into his voice, he asked, "Did you sleep well? 

She smiled. "Oh, very well, thank you." 

There was a moment of awkward silence, then she said, "Thank you for yesterday. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there." 

He waved a dismissive hand. "I did what was necessary." 

Hermione couldn't hide her look of disappointment, but Severus chose to ignore it before he did something monumentally stupid, like wrapping his arms around her and kissing away her distress. 

Instead, he said curtly, " We will be leaving within the hour." 

For a very brief moment, her face fell, but only for the briefest of instants. She quickly gathered herself, and straightening to her full height, she jutted out her chin and looked at him in defiance. 

"Of course, Professor Snape." Brushing past him without giving him a glance, she went upstairs to pack. 

He'd been left standing alone, a dull ache in his chest, where he supposed his heart should be. 

Shaking his head to the present, his thoughts were interrupted by Albus coming through the door of the lab. 

"Congratulations on your success! I'm very anxious to look at the Soul Gathering Spell you retrieved from Belize." 

"It's going to have to be modified," Severus informed him. "The spell is hundreds of years old and the results were erratic at best. Given what we've learned through the centuries, I'd say that we're going to have to substitute incantations and adapt the spell from other sources. There is much we don't know about how the Soul Gathering Spell works." 

"Yes," Albus agreed with him. "It's going to take a lot of effort. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall are going to work on the spell with me. Hermione was telling me about a device that she's developed during the course of her research that is designed to break down a spell and analyze its components. Remarkable, really. I'm sure it will be invaluable. By the way, I gather you two had a chance to meet with Cristobel. How is the old coot?" 

Severus chuckled, despite himself. "You're one to talk. Cristobel was incredibly helpful, he sends his best. He's an interesting fellow, almost as interesting as you are." 

Albus allowed himself a delighted grin. "Why, I believe that was a compliment. I'll take it as such, anyway. So, did you and Dr. Granger make out alright?" 

"Interesting choice of words," thought Severus. Keeping his face carefully inscrutable, he answered, "Fine." 

"Just fine?" 

"Albus, if you're looking for gossip, you'll get none from me. We went in, we found the spell and we came home. End of story." 

"Hmmm," said the Headmaster. "So I take it there will be no problems with your working relationship? You're going to be spending quite a bit of time together, skipping dinners, late nights in the Potions Lab, sharing triumphs and failures together." His voice trailed off. 

"We'll manage," Severus grunted. 

Albus looked at him thoughtfully. Despite himself, Severus couldn't help but ask, "What are you getting at, old man?" He knew the Headmaster well enough to see the little wheels turning in his head and that he was being baited. 

Albus smiled. "Oh, nothing. I just have a feeling that this is going to be an interesting collaboration." 

Taking a deep sip from his tea, Severus refused comment. 

************************************** 

Ron noisily searched Harry's cupboards for something to eat. Harry was reminded of a Muggle film he'd seen in his primary school science class, showing pigs rooting around for truffles. He couldn't help letting out a soft laugh at the comparison. 

"Blimey, Harry! Where's your food? I open your cupboards and I swear I can hear the ocean. They're frightfully empty." 

"Sorry, Ron. I haven't been around much. I usually grab something at the Ministry. The food there is terrible, though." 

Ron didn't hear as he had his head buried deep in Harry's 'fridge. "These Muggle cooling machines are really brilliant," he said. Pulling out an apple, he sighed. "I suppose this will have to do." 

Seating himself at the table, he took a loud bite out of the apple. "So," he said, thoughtfully munching. "What's been going on in your life?" 

Harry looked stricken. 

Noticing the look, Ron sighed. "You spent the night with Ginny again, didn't you?" 

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Honestly, Ron. How do you do that?" 

"It's written all over your face, you're a terrible liar. Always have been." Ron clucked in sympathy. "I suppose I should be angry, or at the very least, I should defend my sister's honour. However, as the Muggles say, it takes two to tango. Despite what my mum and my brothers think, she's a big witch. Big enough to make her own choices." 

"Too bad neither of us is capable of making good ones," answered Harry. 

"So what happens now?" 

"I talk to her, apologize . . . tell her that I'm not worth the trouble." 

"Blah blah blah, Harry," Ron said mournfully. 

"I know." 

They sat in a contemplative silence for a moment, then Ron spoke suddenly. "Voldemort has damaged us all, hasn't he? But I've got news . . . something to give us hope. You know I've been secretly training with the Ministry, right? I don't have to tell you how sensitive the information is I'm about to give you, do I?" Ron's eyes shifted furtively, as if he were checking for spying House Elves. "Are we alone?" 

"Well yes, except for The Harry Potter Fan Club hiding in my closet, we're completely alone." 

Ron rolled his eyes. Letting out a tense breath, he said, "We've compromised Voldemort's security." 

Harry started. "What? How?" 

"You know of Phineus Horton, do you not?" 

"Voldemort's Head of Security? Yeah, he's scum." 

"He's also got a taste for very young witches. Our intelligence revealed that Horton frequents a certain brothel in Knockturn Alley called "The Magic Finger." 

"Interesting name," said Harry dryly. 

"It caters to those with 'childish' desires," Ron gave a shudder. "Anyway, he likes to go to there alone, he doesn't like a crowd . . . " He couldn't suppress a grin. "Performance anxiety or something." Harry snorted and Ron started laughing. He took up the story again. "We set up a young Auror to work undercover. She was able to, erm, distract him while we broke the wards in the room. Dreadful place, all pink and glittery, you know, sort of like Trelawney's classroom." Seeing Harry's impatient look he continued, "Well, to make a long story short, we caught him wandless and with his pants down. We were easily able to cast a Stupefy, as he was in no condition to fight back. We were then able to confiscate his wand and perform a Priori Incantatem on it. We've got every spell he's cast in the last three weeks. Our analysts are scrutinizing them as we speak. Most of the spells were elaborate wards, which are virtually impossible to break, at this point. However, once they're identified, we can work on the counterspells. Voldemort is a creature of habit, he's unlikely to change how he does things." 

"But what about Horton?" 

"Oh, we cast an Obliviate on him, he hasn't a clue. Last I saw him, he was happily shagging that Auror. Stupid git." 

Harry crowed. "That's the best news I've heard in a long, long time! Between Hermione's spell and potion and this breach in security, maybe we have a chance after all!" 

"I'm glad you're so happy about this. It's going to make what I'm going to tell you next much easier." He hesitated. "Hermione's back." 

"I didn't know she'd been gone. Where did she go?" 

"Hell's bells, Harry! You'd better sit down. Hermione was in Paris with Malfoy, and well . . . " 

A few minutes later, the sounds of cursing and breaking glass could be heard from the street outside Harry's house. 

*********************************** 

Severus made his way up to the infirmary. He'd scoured his potions cabinet looking for some extra vials of The Dreamless Sleep Potion, with the intent of delivering them to the hospital wing. They'd depleted their stores in the aftermath of the Death Eaters' attack in Hogsmeade, as many of the students had been plagued with nightmares. However, delivery of the potion was just an excuse to see Hermione and he well knew it. 

Instead of finding Hermione, he found her assistant, Taryn Butler, bent over a patient's chart. 

"Professor Snape! What a pleasant surprise," she said, her face breaking out into a charming smile. 

"I thought you might be in need of some of this," he said, handing her the vials. Looking behind her shoulder, he asked casually, "Is Dr. Granger here?" 

"Oh, no, she's not. She left with Draco Malfoy about twenty minutes ago." 

"Malfoy was here?" Again, he tried to keep his voice casual. 

Taryn didn't seem to notice as she gushed, "Oh yes, and he brought flowers. It was the most enchanting thing I've ever seen! I mean, after all, they did spend the weekend together in Paris, or so I've heard, and here he was again, sweeping her away for a romantic dinner. The whole castle is buzzing about it!" 

Severus felt his gut tighten. 

"I'd like to think that we've got more important things to do around here, rather than gossiping about Dr. Granger's love life, real or imagined," he bit out harshly. 

"Oh come now, Professor! With the threat of war, a little light-hearted gossip is harmless, really. Besides, they make such a beautiful couple. He's so handsome with his gorgeous grey eyes and she's just lovely with her pale skin and dark hair. They're very striking. And they seem so much in love. They couldn't keep their hands off each other." 

Taryn seemed oblivious to the strangled sound Severus made in his throat. 

He mumbled, "We really shouldn't be talking about this." 

"I'm sorry, I've made you uncomfortable. I know you have to work with Dr. Granger, and you probably couldn't care less about her love life. But it's nice to see a little bit of happiness around here. Merlin knows we could all use it." 

Severus felt it best to change the subject. "So how are you faring here at your new job?" he asked politely. 

Taryn's pretty face lit up. "Oh, I just love it here. Dr. Granger is very kind and I'm learning so much. I'm very happy, thank you for asking." 

"Well, at least someone is happy here," he said sardonically. 

Taryn broke out into what could only be described as a seductive grin. "You know, Professor, you should take a page from Dr. Granger's book. She's not the only one who deserves some happiness. I know a certain Potions Master who spends all his days locked up in a drab lab, never getting out and having fun." 

"I've no time for fun, Miss Butler." 

Taryn stepped closer to Severus, her body just inches from his. Reaching down to where his hand was resting on the table, she allowed her fingers to brush against his, her touch a gentle caress. "Then perhaps you should take the time to have some fun." Her voice was a husky whisper. 

There was no mistaking her meaning. 

********************************* 

Twenty minutes previously, Draco Malfoy had dramatically swept into the infirmary, looking for Hermione and clutching his requisite bouquet of white roses. Sneaking up behind her, he'd thrown his arms around her waist, burying his face in her neck. "Hello, gorgeous. Miss me?" He nipped at the soft skin behind her ear. 

Hermione had yelped in surprise. "Don't do that!" she hissed. 

"Why not? We're lovers, after all. At least, that's what we want everyone to think!" 

"Keep your voice down," she whispered harshly. "Taryn is in the next room." 

"Oh well, it looks like you're going to have to play along, then. Follow my lead." Straightening up, he'd practically shouted, "Hermione, my darling! I've missed you so!" 

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. 

"I think this is the part where you throw your arms around me and tell me you love me. Honestly, Hermione! Do I have to tell you everything? One would think you've never had a boyfriend before. Oh . . . sorry. I guess you haven't!" he whispered in glee. 

Hermione let out an involuntary growl, but before she could retort, Malfoy had grabbed her again for a passionate kiss, timing it for when Taryn walked into the room. Taryn couldn't hide her delight at the sight of them clenched together in an amorous embrace. 

Draco pulled back, only to begin raining kisses on Hermione's neck and her chin. "Mmmmm, you taste so good!" Glancing at Taryn, he said, " Oh, hello, who do we have here?" He couldn't suppress an evil grin. 

Hermione squirmed. She was so going to get back at Malfoy for this. Stammering, she said, "D-Draco, this is my assistant, Taryn Butler. Taryn this is my, erm, b-boyfriend, Draco Malfoy." Draco thought she looked a little too pained at saying this, but he let it slide for now." 

Oh, so you're the infamous Draco Malfoy! I've heard a lot about you." 

"All of it good, I'm sure," Draco shot an amused glance at the secretly seething Hermione. "Dr. Granger and I were just going out to Hogsmeade for dinner. I'm sure you can manage things while she's gone?" 

"Oh, it's not a problem. You two kids go out and have some fun. Everything will be here when you get back." 

With a grandiose gesture, Draco pulled Hermione's cloak off a hook. "Come on, love. We've got reservations for seven." He clasped her cloak in an intimate gesture, and putting his arm around her, he called out to Taryn, "Don't wait up." 

Her giggles were the last thing they heard when they left the hospital wing. 

Once they'd been seated at the restaurant, Hermione had trouble keeping her voice down. "Was that really necessary?" 

Draco grinned. "Come now, my love!" 

"Don't call me that!" 

"Well, in the eyes of the wizarding world you *are* my love. It's the only thing keeping me alive right now, thank you very much. I'd appreciate it if you could remember that. And do try to be a little more enthusiastic. I have a reputation, you know." 

"Can't you be serious about anything?" 

"I'm serious about staying alive. I'm serious about killing Voldemort and winning this war. I'm serious about my father getting what's coming to him. Any other questions?" 

Hermione sighed. "I suppose you're right." 

Draco absently fondled her hand, bringing it to his lips. "I'm going to have to bring you up to speed about what happened in Paris." He braced himself before continuing with his account. 

Hermione heard a loud buzzing in her ears. The only words she could make out were, "drunk", "fountain", "naked", "arrested" and "shagging". She began to feel faint. 

"Hermione? Are you listening? Pull yourself together, girl! Everything is going according to plan. You and Uncle Severus will be working on the potion and the Headmaster has a team working on the spell. Best of all, Voldemort will be distracted with thoughts of revenge on Harry Potter. We'll have to time everything, of course, but really, things couldn't be going better. It's like a chess match, all the pieces are falling into place . . . " 

A soft, menacing voice interrupted them. "Too bad you suck at chess, Malfoy." 

Startled, Draco looked up. "Oh, it's only you, Weasley. For a minute there, I thought it was somebody important." 

Ron stepped aside to reveal Harry standing behind him, a grim look on his face. 

"Oh, hullo, Harry," said Draco. 

Before he could continue, Harry reached back and in a blur, his fist connected with Draco's aristocratic nose. 

TBC 

*********************************** 

Oh what tangled web we weave . . . . things are getting complicated, don't you think? 

Thanks again to my beta, Elizabeth, who had been a wonderful sounding board for this story. 


	10. Chapter 9: Surge

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


It begins again,   
the nocturnal pulse.   
It courses through the cables laid for it.   
It mounts to the chandeliers and beats there, hotly.   
We are too close.   
Too late, we would move back.   
We are involved with the surge. 

~ From the poem, "The Assassination" by Donald Justice 

  
**************************************** 

Chapter 9: Surge 

Draco had been unprepared for the sudden violent assault. As he crashed out of his chair, he noted with horror that there was blood gushing from his nose. "My beautiful nose," he thought mournfully, before he looked up to see Harry grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. It was an apparent attempt to bang his head against the floor. 

"Fuck this!" he thought. "Acting or no acting, I'm going to give him a good, swift kick in the jacobs!" 

He grabbed Harry around the neck. "Die, Potter!" he snarled. Pushing his knee up against Harry's groin, he could tell by his reaction that he'd hit home. 

"Ergh," said Harry, a feeling of nausea overwhelming him. He bent over and harshly whispered in Draco's ear, "Nice shot, you poofter. I guess we have to make this look good." 

"I'm kicking your arse, Potter!" Malfoy shouted dramatically. He lowered his voice to a whisper and added, "Just like we planned." Harry had to keep himself from laughing at the sound of Draco's voice. With his bloody nose, it sounded like, "Im kin yo as, Pot." 

In the distance, he could make out Hermione screaming at them to stop. Ron, on the other hand, was rather encouraging. 

Harry grabbed Draco by his robe, lifted him to his feet and snarled, "Don't count on it, you chinless wonder!" Draco saw his advantage as Harry was pausing to yell at him some more, so he shoved him hard into another table. As they both fell to the floor again, Harry took the opportunity to roll them both under the table. When they were safely out of sight he rasped, "Was it really necessary to humiliate Hermione with your antics in Paris? Surely you knew that it would hurt and embarrass her." 

As they rolled out from under the table, Draco whispered back to Harry, "It was the only way, Potter. I had to convince Voldemort that she's changing. Our lives depend on it." He made sure to punctuate his statement with a hard tweak to Harry's earlobe. 

Harry heaved a glancing blow off Malfoy's chin. "You made her look like a slut, you prat! " 

Before Draco could retort, he felt himself being lifted by huge, tree-trunk arms. 

"That's enough!" roared Hagrid. He kept a tight grip on a struggling Malfoy. "Yer going ta kill each other." 

Harry was being restrained by a grim-looking Remus Lupin. 

"Stay away from her, Malfoy!" yelled Harry, as he halfheartedly struggled in Lupin's arms. 

Hermione ran forward, laying a concerned hand on Draco's cheek. Giving Harry a triumphant smirk, Draco said, "She's having fun with me, Potter. Something you obviously know nothing about." He snaked a lazy arm around Hermione. 

"Cheeky bastard," muttered Remus. 

"Hermione?" Harry gave her an entreating look. 

"Just go, Harry," she whispered in embarrassment. "We'll talk later." 

As Remus let loose of him, Harry strode forward and pulling Draco's head by his hair, he forced Malfoy close enough so he could whisper in his ear, "You accomplished the objective . . . well done. But you're still a sniveling, ferret-faced brat." 

Without looking back, he stalked out of the restaurant. 

"Erm, I'd better see to him. Hermione, I'm dying to talk to you but some other time, I'm sure," said a sheepish Ron. Giving her an apologetic look, he left. 

Seeing the devastation on Hermione's face, Draco took pity on her. "Let's go back to your place, I need to clean up. Maybe you could do that healing thing you do?" She looked like she was going to cry. "There, there, love . . . I'm the one who got his nose buggered, but you don't see me crying, now do you?" He was rewarded by a slight smile. 

"Hermione, are you alright?" Remus couldn't help but look worriedly at her. She nodded as he continued, "Hagrid and I were walking to The Three Broomsticks, when we heard the commotion in here. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening." 

"That's really lovely and all, but do you think we could leave before I bleed to death all over the carpet?" 

"Stuff it, Malfoy," said Hermione quietly. Shifting her posture slightly, she lifted her head and added loudly, "Let's go home, love." 

Making a great show of it, they limped back to Hogwarts. Malfoy made sure he leaned on her extra hard. 

"Some blokes will do anything to cop a feel," he thought to himself. 

************************************************* 

Hermione dealt with her stress by going on auto-pilot. She'd plunged headlong into her books and had calibrated her magic particle spectrometer almost as soon as she got rid of Malfoy. He'd actually taken the breaking of his nose rather philosophically, saying that it was the least he could sacrifice for The Cause. Then he'd taken a look at himself in the mirror and had promptly fainted. Once he'd regained consciousness, Hermione quickly healed him and pushed him out the door. With that accomplished, she later made a beeline for Harry's house. He'd explained to her that he was angry with Malfoy for making her look like a tart, but even he had to admit that it had been a cunning stroke of brilliance. He'd quietly confessed to her that he rather enjoyed punching out Malfoy, the feeling was probably a holdover from their school days. Hermione understood perfectly how he felt. She regularly had the urge to slug Malfoy. 

She'd gone home that evening feeling infinitely better about the whole thing. 

Joining her in the lab the following night, Severus had been fascinated by the magic particle spectrometer and they'd had an illuminating conversation on how this device was going to help them in their task. Admiring her intellect, old habits as her Potions Professor had dictated that he only nod curtly to her as she explained how it worked. Praise was to be avoided at all costs. After two weeks of research, they'd begun with the arithmancy and had re-worked her calculations to where they had the base ingredients for the potion mapped out. 

She'd seemed in no condition for snarkiness, so Severus found himself making polite chit-chat in between discussions over potions ingredients and reference books. He usually hated anything that even remotely hinted of 'chit-chat', but he couldn't bear the silence between them. He'd been reduced to sneaking glances at her while she wasn't looking and they'd worked the entire time without saying one personal thing to each other. Despite the stimulating nature of their research, it didn't seem to be enough to pull him out of his blue funk. Instead of emotionally pushing himself away from Hermione as was his intention, he found that being in her constant presence had triggered a deep longing for her that he couldn't seem to shake. Never in his life had he reacted to a woman like this. 

Unbidden, his thoughts drifted back to the evening when Taryn Butler had propositioned him. His reaction to her had been more in keeping with his character. 

He'd been totally shocked and unprepared for her come-on. 

His first ridiculous thought had been of Hermione, picturing the look on her face if she could see him standing inches from Miss Butler, her long fingers caressing his in an intimate gesture. Somehow it had seemed like a betrayal of her, although he knew he was being irrational. Hermione was a non-issue. He'd backed away from Miss Butler as if she'd been made of poison gas and he'd murmured something to her about her sudden illness, she obviously wasn't feeling well. Perhaps she needed to take the rest of the evening off? Then he'd fled the infirmary without looking back, heading straight to the Potions Lab. He had been studiously avoiding Miss Butler ever since. 

He sighed. He'd been pushing Hermione away from him because he was afraid she'd become too much of a distraction. Instead, the forbidden nature of his attraction to her had only served to lengthen his sleepless nights. He thought about her constantly. It took all of his mental strength not to strangle Malfoy when he came calling for her, making a big show of putting his hands all over her. Something was going to have to give, or he was going to go crazy. 

Severus looked up from his cauldron to find Hermione sitting at his desk, head in her hand, drifting off to sleep. An open book was lying at her elbows. 

He looked tenderly at her, and his breath hitched in his chest. 

Walking over to her, he hesitantly reached out and caressed her hair while she slept. Her eyes immediately snapped open, and she was surprised to see him touching her, a soft, unguarded look on his face. 

"Severus?" she asked sleepily. 

He immediately snatched his hand away. "I'm sorry for disturbing you," he murmured. "You were sleeping." 

She searched his face. "For a moment, you looked different," she said. "I haven't seen that look in your eye since . . . since . ." 

"Since Belize," he finished for her. He looked away, embarrassed. Why on earth had he mentioned that? 

"You must be exhausted if you're willing to bring that up," she said, her voice echoing his thoughts. "You made your feelings very clear that morning. Everything you did for me was done out of a sense of obligation and duty. You needn't feel guilty about it. I understood you perfectly." Her voice was even and flat. 

"We're treading on dangerous waters here, Dr. Granger," he began cautiously. "I should never have brought up Belize. Although I'm sure that you misunderstood me that morning," he added, so softly that Hermione wasn't sure she heard him correctly. 

"I'm sorry. I could have sworn you said I misunderstood you." 

"Give it a rest, Dr. Granger." 

Hermione found herself gritting her teeth. 

"Oh, for the love of Nimue! This is exhausting! And stop calling me 'Dr. Granger'!" she snapped. "You'd like for me to think that you're indifferent to me, but I can clearly see that you're not." With a surge of Gryffindor courage, she stood up and boldly brushed her lips against his neck, whispering, "You want me. I can see it in your eyes." 

He stepped back as if he'd been burned. "What would you have me to tell you?" he rasped angrily. "That I find you desirable? That I think of you constantly? That I want to fuck you into delirium? Well, maybe I do!" The last sentence was a shout. 

In an instant, he looked horrified at what he'd just said. 

"Don't you dare take that back, Severus Snape," said Hermione, noticing that he was starting to back away from her even further. 

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry," he sounded stunned. "It was entirely inappropriate." 

"Why? Why are you running away from this, this . . . thing, whatever it is, between us?" 

"For the simple reason that it could never work out. Aside from the obvious fact that I'm old enough to be your father, there's the nature of our research. There's a lot at stake and we just can't start anything personal together. It's too dangerous. Besides, I'm pretty sure that you're confusing gratitude with . . . with something else. It's best if we just remain colleagues." 

Hermione lifted her head and looked deep into his midnight eyes. "I don't accept that." 

"Hermione," his voice was low and dangerous. "I would have thought that the risky nature of our mission would be enough to convince you that any entanglements between us would be ill-advised. I am not a nice man and I'm pretty sure that things would end badly for us. It's not worth jeopardizing all our hard work" 

Seeing the devastated look on her face, he was moved to add quietly, "I can't believe that you would even consider being with me. There are things in my past . . . awful, horrible things that you can't even begin to imagine." 

"I don't care," she said petulantly. 

Grabbing her by her arms, he lowered his head so that he was eye level with her. "You should care! You should be thinking only of The Soul Shattering Potion and nothing else. What good is a brilliant mind if you can't even control your own heart?" His voice sounded like broken glass. 

"I can't think of the potion and not think of you," she answered softly. "As for my heart, it can't hurt any more than it already does, so I'm pretty certain it can survive just about anything. Even you." 

Groaning, he pushed himself away from her. Hermione saw the fire in his eyes, before he savagely suppressed it. 

"I know you want me," she repeated. "I can see it in your eyes." 

"Then I have failed you." Seeing the pained expression on her face, he faltered. "Don't look at me like that." 

"Don't push me away because you're scared." 

"I'm not scared!" he shouted. "I'm just trying to save us both a lot of trouble!" 

"Well then, you're too late!" Hermione shouted back at him. "We're already in trouble!" 

Severus sucked in a deep, shocked breath. 

"Believe what you want," he said, helplessly. "But I just can't talk about this anymore. I think it's best if we pack up the lab and continue in the morning. A good night's sleep will give us a new perspective." 

He quickly cleared the lab and moved towards the door. As he reached for the doorknob, he heard her softly say, "You can run, but you can't hide." 

He heroically resisted the urge to turn back to her, gather her in his arms and kiss her senseless. Instead, he practically ran from the room. 

"Truer words were never spoken," he thought. 

*********************************************** 

Lucius Malfoy regarded his son from across the breakfast table. Draco was delicately polishing off a croissant with honey, oblivious to his father's thoughtful gaze. The sun shone brightly in the Malfoy dining room, as the house elves had opened the drapes to let the light in. They knew that Malfoy, Jr. liked the sunlight. Malfoy, Sr., on the other hand, detested it. 

"What?" said Draco, looking up. Getting no immediate answer, he shrugged and turned his attention back to the plate in front of him. 

Lucius noticed that through the years Draco had taken on a rather sullen, disaffected tone with him. He suspected that this was an attempt to hide what was really going on in his devious little head. "After all," thought Lucius, "If he was always sounding bored and disinterested, nobody would question what was going on in his vacant mind." 

Lucius was on to him, however. The boy was hiding something. 

He knew his son to be devious because throughout his upbringing, he'd made certain to nurture that aspect of Draco's personality. Deviousness was a fine trait in a Malfoy . . . the old survival instinct, fully developed. 

Keeping his eyes on Draco, he said, "Tell me, son. Are you satisfied with your life so far?" 

"Well, that's a strange question coming from you, father. You usually don't concern yourself with my satisfaction. Not that I'm complaining, mind you." He gave Lucius a charming smile. 

Lucius smiled back but it didn't reach his cold eyes. He spoke slowly and deliberately. "I know how much you hate Mudbloods, son. This whole game with that horrid Granger person must be terribly difficult for you. My sources tell me she's very beautiful, but all the same, she's filthy and she's beneath us. How are you holding out?" 

Draco leaned in, "Well father, she has absolutely no class, but she's been a damned good lay. She likes it rough, just like me." He leaned back in his chair. "I guess you could say I'm holding out just fine." 

"It's very important that you deliver Dr. Granger to our Lord, Draco. He's got plans for her and if you're successful in giving her over to him, we will be amply rewarded. It would bring even more honor and prestige to the Malfoy name." 

"If that's his plan then so be it, although he told me that he only wanted to distract Potter." Draco continued with his bored tone. 

"Things change, my boy. Things change. Remember that if you want to stay alive." 

"Yes, father." 

*************************************************** 

Later on that morning, Albus called a meeting to discuss their progress. Quoting a line from one of his favorite Muggle movies, he'd chuckled, "I see we've gathered all the usual suspects." He beamed at everybody. 

"Really Albus, your cheer is particularly grating this morning." Severus had been sitting in his usual chair and he'd woken up in a very foul mood. He couldn't even bring himself to look at Hermione. 

"Well then, let's start with Dr. Granger. How are things coming along with the potion, my dear?" 

"Professor Snape and I have already identified and analyzed the emotions that are shattered when the potion is administered. I am currently working on what one would term the 'higher' functioning of the soul as after all, we are more than just our emotions." She shot a glance Severus, before continuing. "I've recently been examining logic, higher cortical thinking, intellect, memory, and mental adaptability. Once those energies can be isolated, we will begin working on the potion ingredients. The spectrometer has been used to isolate and identify the magical properties of both the soul in general and the potion. Severus, erm, I mean Professor Snape, has also begun work on the base potion, one with energy-shattering properties. It will be refined over time." 

"How much time?" Draco asked the question weighing heavily on all minds. 

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "You can't predict the course of research, Malfoy. That's why they call it, 'research'." 

"Well we don't have a lot of time." Draco turned to her. "He's asking for you, Hermione. Voldemort wants me to bring you to him and although I considered holding off for as long as I can, it will only raise his suspicions. Soon, he'll want to meet with you." 

Snape jumped up without thinking. "No!" he shouted. "Absolutely not!" 

The group appeared to be collectively stunned at his outburst. Albus raised a questioning eyebrow. 

"He'll only torture her and kill her," Severus said, by way of explanation. 

"You're acting as if I have no say in this, Severus." Hermione looked determined. "I think I'm perfectly capable of making a rational choice about the risks I'm willing to take." 

"You're a fool if you think you'll get out of this alive. I won't have it." 

"You won't have it? Just who the hell do you think you are?" Hermione's voice was raised to an almost hysterical pitch. 

"Someone who knows exactly what Voldemort is capable of," he bit out harshly. "Do you know what it's like to be beaten savagely and raped in front of a group of bloodthirsty Death Eaters? They'd take turns with you, then they'd slowly dismember you, laughing while you screamed." 

Hermione blanched. 

"Really, Severus, we get the picture without your melodrama," said the Headmaster. 

"If I have to resort to melodrama, it's only because Dr. Granger is being incredibly foolhardy. With typical Gryffindor bravado, she's failed to see the ramifications of what's being asked of her." 

"I'm right here, you don't have to talk about me as if I were a child." 

"Well, if you act like a child, I'll treat you like one." Severus' tone brooked no argument. 

"Oh!" huffed Hermione. She felt totally humiliated at his treatment of her in front of the rest of the staff. 

Walking over to where he was sitting, she leaned over to him and whispered harshly, "You have no right. You spend all your time pushing me away, and now you want to protect me. Well, you can't have it both ways, Professor." She straightened up. 

Seeing the curious looks the others were giving them, she did the only thing that made sense at the time. 

She fled. 

Leaping to his feet, Severus sprang from the chair as if he'd been shot out of a cannon as he ran after her. 

The silence in the room was deafening. 

"Well," said Albus. "I guess this meeting is adjourned for now. It seems that some of us have things that need to be worked out." 

************************************************* 

Hermione ran down the hall to the dungeons, tears blinding her as she stumbled into her private quarters. Before she had a chance to slam the door, a foot quickly wedged into the door- frame, keeping her from shutting it. She recognized the dragonhide boot. 

"Leave me alone!" she screamed at him. 

"Pull yourself together Hermione. Why are you reacting this way? I'm only trying to keep you safe." 

"You're treating me as if I was a stupid child! You tell me that you don't want us to have a relationship, yet you think that you can make choices for me. This is my decision and mine alone! Again, why are you concerning yourself with this?" 

"Because . . . " he said softly. "Because if something happened to you, I don't think I could bear it." Reaching for her, his lips blindly sought hers. 

It was as if a dam had burst open and torrents of emotions washed over them, leaving them both breathless. After the first touch of her lips, Severus had moved back just a fraction, only the barest sliver of air between them. He opened his eyes and saw her looking back at him in wonder, tears still hanging off the corners of her eyes. 

"I'm lost," he thought, as he closed his eyes and claimed her lips again passionately. 

Hermione fought a feeling of giddiness. Finally! After all these weeks, she was finally kissing him and it was the most glorious feeling she'd ever had. His lips were hard and soft at the same time, pliant one second and rough and insistent the next. He'd wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body against his as she shook with pleasure. Taking the initiative, she opened her mouth to him and he eagerly explored her with sensuous movements of his tongue. Her hands roamed all over his body, feeling the hardness of the muscles of his shoulders and upper back. She let out a soft moan when he lowered his hands to the soft curves of her backside and he reached around to lightly caress a breast. He returned her moan with one of his own. 

She could feel his erection against her groin and she arched her hips against his, to get even closer. Severus let out a hiss. 

Breaking away from their embrace, he regarded her with fiery eyes and panting breath. He reached for her again. 

He was just about to kiss her when a heavy pounding sounded from the door. 

"I know you're in there, Hermione! Open up, dammit!" 

Draco Malfoy had shitty timing. 

"And I know Uncle Severus is in there too." 

Oh, fuck. 

  
TBC  
********************************************************** 

Author's note. I had the hardest time with this chapter, I hope it was worth the wait. My usual thanks to Elizabeth for taking the time to beta-read this. Thanks girlie! 

Please review, as always! 

  



	11. Chapter 10: Lies

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


All previous disclaimers still apply! 

**************************************** 

And I have seen my share of long nights   
And I have told my share of lies   
And I have run into the darkness   
When I saw the look in your eyes   
But if the night didn't lie in the darkness   
Then the daylight would be hard to find   
And if the truth didn't turn to a weakness   
I would have never have spoken my mind 

~ From the song, "If I Were The Man You Wanted" by Lyle Lovett 

***************************************** 

Chapter 10: Lies 

  
The sound of Malfoy's banging and yelling had a similar effect to cold water being thrown on molten lava. Breathing heavily, Hermione and Severus immediately jumped away and regarded each other with disheveled hair and wild eyes. Hermione noticed that Severus was flushed and shaking and he in turn noticed that Hermione's pupils were dilated and her lips were swollen from kissing. 

They stared at each other in awe. Temporarily ignoring Malfoy, they stepped towards each other again. 

Draco was persistent. "Alright, I've had enough of this! On the count of three I'm coming in . . . one . . . two," 

The door flew open. Draco stalked into the room, a wide grin on his face. 

"For Godsakes, Hermione! Haven't you heard of wards? Any undesirable could have walked in here at any time. Oh . . . erm . . . oh my, my." He took in the appearance of Hermione and his "uncle". 

"Well, this is an interesting turn of events." His tone was sarcastic. "Good Lord, Hermione, I can see your nipples from way over here. I'd tell you two to get a room, but I see you already have one." 

Almost before he could finish his sentence, Draco was lifted off the floor and his body thrown violently back into a chair. Severus was scowling at him, his eyes narrowed in fury. 

"You will address Dr. Granger with respect!" he growled with quiet menace. "If I hear anything like that again from your filthy mouth, I'll send you back to your mother in a small box!" 

"Alright, alright," Draco mumbled. "I'm sorry, you just caught me by surprise, that's all. By the way, does Voldemort know you do wandless magic? Because, aside from the fact that you almost broke my neck, that was really amazing." 

"Voldemort is aware of my powers." Severus offered no more explanation. 

"Why are you here, Malfoy?" Hermione looked at him in supreme irritation. She couldn't help but cross her arms in front of her chest. 

"Isn't it obvious? After my announcement, you both flew out of the room like a couple of bats out of hell . . . no offense, Uncle Severus." He grinned before turning serious. "We have to talk about this." 

"What is there to talk about? She's not going to Voldemort. You are to end this charade now." 

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Draco interrupted her. "Uncle Severus, I know you're concerned about Hermione's safety. Believe it or not, so am I. But we have to come up with a plan to deal with this. If we don't continue, my life as a spy is over, in fact, my life is over. Not only that, but we'll lose our advantage. We can't give a knee-jerk reaction to every hard situation that comes along. Surely you understand that." 

Severus sighed. "Point taken." He sat gracefully on Hermione's couch and motioned for her to join him. 

Draco eyed them warily. "Erm, I'm a little afraid to ask, but what is going on with you two?" 

Hermione spoke quickly. "Nothing. Nothing at all. We work together, that's all." She glanced at Severus. His expression was closed. 

Draco snorted. "Oh, right! How stupid do you think I am? How stupid do you think Voldemort is? It's obvious that you two want to crawl inside each other's knickers . . . I'm practically suffocating on the hormones in this room. Don't look at me like that, Uncle! If I can see it, then others will be able to, as well. After all, I'm not exactly known for my sensitivity," he said, stating the obvious. 

Hermione looked at Severus warily and turned to Draco. "Well, it's obvious to you because you and I are not really a couple, are we? To everybody else in the wizarding world, we're romantically involved. It would never occur to anybody that there's something going on between Severus and me . . . not that there is," she added again quickly. "Besides, even if there was, I can assure you that we'd never compromise the mission." She looked at the floor in embarrassment. 

"You're being awfully silent, Uncle." 

Snape's face was implacable and Draco could almost hear the proverbial door slamming shut. 

"I'm not discussing this with you. Ever. If you want to talk about a plan to keep Dr. Granger safe, then let's get on with it." 

"Well," said Draco slowly, "I've been thinking about this for several days. If Voldemort wanted me to use Hermione just to distract Potter, he wouldn't bother meeting with her. It's risky bringing her to where he stays and he'd be more likely to use his Watchers to report on her activities. It's obvious that he has other things in mind. If I bring her to him, I think I'll have a better chance of finding out what they are." 

Severus got up and began to pace. "That's your plan? To just take her to him?" He gave Draco an incredulous look. "And if his plan is to kill her, or to have you kill her, what then?" 

Draco ran a distracted hand through his long blond hair. "I don't believe that he would test me that way. Think about it . . . if he wanted to kill her, he would have done it long ago. She was very vulnerable living alone and working in London. No, I think he wants to use her for something. The problem is, I can't tell what it is, but I think that I could find out, given time. One thing I've noticed about Voldemort is that he's surrounded by 'yes men' and he enjoys my company because I tell him the truth, not what he wants to hear. I told you he thinks of me as a confidant, remember? For instance, did you know that he's obsessed with Ginny Weasley? He talks about her all the time. I think he wants to make her his queen or something." 

"That's disgusting!" Hermione interjected. 

"Well of course it is! This is Voldemort we're talking about," said Draco. "He says his interest in Weasley went beyond having her open The Chamber of Secrets. He's been waiting for her to grow up so he can claim her as a bride." 

Hermione paled. "How long have you known about this, Malfoy?" she asked. 

"For a couple of months now." He looked sheepish. "I guess I should have told you about this sooner." 

"We'll deal with that issue later," snapped Severus. "Right now, I'm concerned about his plans for Dr. Granger." 

"I have to keep cooperating with him. If I don't, I might as well give up my undercover work." 

"He has a point, Severus. If we play our cards right, we could find out what he's planning. If he wants to meet me, I think we should do it. If Draco and I could convince him that I've turned to the Dark, we stand a better chance of infiltrating his operation and defeating him." 

As Severus walked over to the fireplace, it spontaneously lit into a roaring fire. Draco and Hermione exchanged amazed looks. "There may be a way," said Severus, staring thoughtfully into the fire. "Professor Flitwick has been working on a tracking charm. The beauty of it is that it can't be traced. He started working on it when it became apparent that my life was in danger. The plan was for me to use it when I was called to the revels, but after my cover was blown, we obviously couldn't. Filius tells me that he could complete it in less than a week." He turned to Draco. "Can you hold him off that long?" 

"I can do that," said Draco. "Voldemort hasn't directly asked me to bring Hermione, I heard that from Lucius. However, I think he'll be talking to me about it soon." 

"Then do it. I have a little secret of my own, something which will aid us further, should Voldemort pull a surprise." 

"What?" asked Hermione. 

"In due time." 

Draco got up from his chair. "Well, I can't say it hasn't been fun . . . because it hasn't. I'll just leave you two alone so you can be 'colleagues' together, or whatever." He leered at them. 

"Mr. Malfoy, if you don't wipe that look off your face . . . " 

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving!" Draco stepped to the doorway. "Hermione, you're going to have to do a better acting job if you want Voldemort to believe we're in love. I can't have you mooning over someone else." Before Hermione could retort, he was gone. 

Severus sighed. "Impudent boy." He looked at Hermione carefully. "He's right, you know." 

"About what? About me mooning over someone else? It's too late." Hermione stepped closer to him. 

Severus instinctively backed away. "Don't say that. If Voldemort suspects you're not madly in love with Malfoy, he'll kill you on the spot. We should stop this now." 

"No, we should be more careful. We can do this, Severus." 

"Hermione, if circumstances were different, I'd be tempted to agree with you. But we have to consider our work. If anybody suspects that there's something going on between us, we're dead. Voldemort will see to it. I know it's a cliché, but there's just too much at stake. It's best if we put this 'thing', as you so eloquently put it, on hold for now." 

Hermione let out a deep breath. Closing her eyes, she thought about everything he'd said that day. "Perhaps you're right," she conceded. She lifted a hand to his cheek and bringing her face close to his, she looked into his eyes. He could feel the soft stubble on his face and gloried in the feel of it. "I guess this is going to have to tide us over for a while," she whispered. She tentatively brushed her lips against his, before deepening the kiss. 

Severus couldn't help but respond. Wrapping his arms around her, he returned her kiss with fervor, reveling in the soft feel of her lips. He broke away before he lost himself completely. Leaning against her forehead, he gasped, "We can't take any chances. As of right now, we're colleagues and nothing more." 

"Wait," said Hermione quietly. Stepping forward, she wrapped him in a tight embrace, her arms encircling his neck. She tucked her head under his chin. "Just give me a minute." 

For several moments, they stood in the middle of the room, enfolded together. Severus absently placed a kiss on the top of her head. "This is going to be the longest wait of my life," he thought. 

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her. "I've got to go, I need to collect supplies for the next step in the potion." He looked at her intensely, before walking to the door. 

"Severus, I can do this, but I just have to know that you won't push me away once this is over." 

"I won't." With a customary sweep of his robes, he was gone. 

***************************************** 

One minute Draco Malfoy was taking a joyride around Hogsmeade on his broomstick, the next he was kneeling on a cold stone floor, Voldemort's hand yanking at his hair. 

"How the fuck does he do that?" Draco thought. "He always catches me by surprise. My Dark Mark barely burned and suddenly here I am again." 

Voldemort pulled on his hair even harder. "Mr. Malfoy. My Watchers tell me that you've been openly lusting after the waitresses at The Boom Boom Room in Knockturn Alley." 

"Tattletales," muttered Draco. He lifted his head to look at Voldemort and had to suppress a gasp. The creature looked even less healthy than the last time he'd seen him, if that was even possible. His usual powerful voice had been reduced to a harsh wheeze and Draco noticed the effort it seemed to take for him to even speak. 

Keeping his voice neutral, he said, "My apologies, my Lord. Some habits are hard to break. I can assure you that Hermione Granger thinks I'm totally besotted with her. I tell her that often enough, anyway. She likes me even better in bed." 

"You're going to have to be more careful, Mr. Malfoy. If Dr. Granger has any idea that this is just a ruse on your part, I'm afraid that I'll have to take drastic action. Painful, deadly action." 

"I understand, my Lord," Draco murmured. He suppressed a shudder. 

"Come sit with me, Draco," Voldemort said weakly. He gestured to a chair next to him. 

"How are you feeling? You look a little tired. Is there anything I can do for you?" Draco sounded sincere. 

Voldemort smiled affectionately at him. "Do you know that you're the only person who has ever asked me that? All my other servants seem to shun my company." He let out a breath and Draco again suppressed a shudder. While Voldemort had never smelled clean and minty fresh, the odor emanating from him was particularly foul. "I'm not feeling well, Draco. I haven't told anybody this, but recent activities have taken a big toll. Soon however, all that will change." 

"Change? How?" 

"I have a plan," Voldemort confided. "While I'm not ready to give the details, soon my health problems will be over. I've struggled with this for years and frankly, unicorn blood is not all it's cracked up to be. No, I have something else in mind." 

Draco knew from years in the Dark Lord's service that it was best to let Voldemort confide in him in his own time. If he appeared too eager, it would raise suspicions. Something in what Voldemort was telling him was raising red flags, but he didn't have time to contemplate it. Time enough for that later. 

Voldemort changed the subject. "Things have been progressing very nicely, you're doing good work. All accounts that I've been given indicate that Dr. Granger is a changed woman because of you. Have you told her that you're in my service?" 

Draco answered carefully. "Well my Lord, she knows that I'm a Death Eater, if that's what you mean. It's hard to hide seeing as I bear the Dark Mark and she has seen me naked. Several times." He smirked. 

"And how has she reacted to that?" 

"To my being naked? She loves it, of course. Oh . . . you mean to the Dark Mark!" Voldemort snorted in amusement. "Well, it's very interesting," Draco continued. "She and I have had several conversations about the war and she's a very ambitious woman. I didn't realize it until we'd been dating for several weeks, but she was not at all happy with how her life had been going up until I met her. She was a workaholic, she was poorly paid, and she's had to kowtow to stupid people who were her medical supervisors. Her ego has taken quite a beating." 

"It's as I always suspected," Voldemort said with satisfaction. "Her friends and co-workers have never understood her. Tell me, how does she feel about Harry Potter?" 

"She's angry with both him and Ron Weasley. It appears that they only contact her when they want something from her and it's just like when they were at Hogwarts together. She used to do all their homework, you know. She feels used by them and is particularly upset that they've seemed to move on with their lives without her. She's very resentful." 

"Excellent, excellent! This is even better than I could have hoped for. Do you think she'd be willing to turn on them?" Voldemort ended the sentence with a hacking cough. Draco showed no emotion. 

"Not yet, my Lord. Give me time. I think that I can manipulate her to where she'll be willing to do anything to keep me in her life. I've wined and dined her and I've shown her all the luxuries that only money can buy. She's insatiable in bed and it's been a particularly satisfying aspect of our relationship. The only problem I'm having is with this 'pureblood' thing. Intellectually, she has a hard time with the concept that Muggleborns are inferior to purebloods and your stand on that issue is very vexing to her. Do you have any suggestions as to how I can approach this?" 

Voldemort laughed softly. "Tell her that whether or not a wizard is pureblood is not important to me. It's important to some of my more loyal servants and because of that I've had to adopt a policy of Muggleborn genocide, but it's a political decision, a compromise to keep them happy. Personally, I can say that as long as someone is loyal to me and to my cause, I could care less as to where they came from. It's particularly true if they're powerful wizards or witches, like Dr. Granger. One Dr. Granger is worth ten Goyles to me." Again he laughed harshly. Draco noticed that he seemed to be having trouble keeping his blood-red eyes focused. "I'm a practical wizard, Mr. Malfoy. I kill Muggles when it's useful to me and I leave them alone when it's not." 

"I'll talk to her about what you've told me. Hermione loves nothing more than an intellectual debate. To be truthful, I think she's rather bored at Hogwarts. She agreed to stay on after Pomfrey died out of some sense of loyalty, but at least she seems to be happy with her research." Draco calculated as to whether or not he should mention Hermione's research, but felt that it would be prudent to bring it up. To do otherwise would raise Voldemort's suspicions. 

"So how goes Dr. Granger's research? Does she confide in you?" 

"A little, my Lord. She's working on some sort of Soul Gathering spell. I think it could be useful to our cause when our Death Eaters are injured by curses from the Ministry Aurors. She seems to be close to completing her work." 

"It doesn't matter to me, really," wheezed Voldemort. "I'm immune to the killing curse, but I suppose it could be useful to some of my servants. If doing that research keeps her at Hogwarts, then it serves my purposes." He waved a dismissive hand. "By the way, I'll be wanting to meet with Dr. Granger soon. I suggest you get busy and convince her that it's a good idea." 

"As you wish, my Lord," Draco said softly. 

They were both silent for a moment. Suddenly Voldemort turned to Draco and said, "You may go now. I'm entertaining a guest and I don't want to keep her waiting. I will allow you to apparate to Malfoy Manor." 

"A lady, my Lord? Anybody I know?" 

Before Voldemort could answer, a cowering house elf entered the room and stammered, "She's here, my Lord." 

Draco stood up to receive the guest, but Voldemort took him by the elbow and steered him to the front entrance hall. He moved very slowly. "I'm not ready to reveal her yet, Mr. Malfoy." He leaned over to Draco and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "She pleases me very much. Even I get lonely sometimes." 

Draco tried to wrap his mind around that concept. 

As Draco was leaving the entrance hall, he turned his head towards a side hallway and was able to catch a brief glimpse of a slight figure as she slipped into a side door. She was wearing a heavy fur-lined cloak and he couldn't see her face. Was that a curl of red hair he saw under her hood? Or was it blond? He couldn't tell. 

Making sure that no one was following him, he made his way to the side-door, where she'd just stood. The only scent that lingered in the air was that of a perfume. 

He sniffed deeply. "She has expensive taste," he thought. 

**************************************** 

That night, Hermione and Severus worked hard on the Soul Shattering Potion. There was a sense of urgency for its completion, and for the first time in their lives, they both wished their work to be over and done. Severus wondered what it would be like not to have the threat of Voldemort hanging over his head. Would he even know how to conduct his life in a normal way? The thought of being with Hermione, without restraint, without reservation, was intoxicating, but he tried not to think about it. He had to stay focused. 

They were very careful not to touch each other and they limited their conversation strictly to the task at hand. It was the hardest evening they'd ever spent together. 

"I've found that yarrow is probably the most potent ingredient in all the love potions I've ever analyzed," remarked Hermione. "I've been doing some reading and Shorinda would be a good antidote to counteract its effects. I'm having trouble deciding which is the best way to prepare it, though." 

Severus looked up from his cauldron. "Well, there are several ways to prepare it. I think that given the chemical properties of the base potion, the preparation used by some of the Lapland tribes in northern Finland would be best. You remember, don't you?" 

Hermione loved this part of working with Severus. When she was a student at Hogwarts, he would drill his students on what they were supposed to know, barking questions at them until somebody got the answer wrong. Then he'd sigh in mock despair before castigating the offending student for his or her ignorance. He'd never been able to beat Hermione at this game, but looking back, she suspected that he never really tried very hard. That was a revelation in itself. 

She smiled at him. "Shorinda, or Blade Venom can be mixed with one quart of urine and must ferment for 6 days before the remaining liquid is distilled. The plant is a lichen found in needleleaf forests on trees, and is occasionally found on stone . . . the Laplanders used this technique because --" 

"That's enough, Dr. Granger," Severus said dryly. Hermione grinned. "Luckily, we don't have to wait for six days because I anticipated this last week and began processing the plant." He couldn't help giving her a superior look. Changing the subject slightly, he added, "I've also been examining a copy of the Nine Herbs Charm. What do you know of that?" 

Hermione used her best "student voice". "The charm was found in the 11th century manuscript known as Harley 585, called "Lacnunga" by one of its translators in the 19th century. The Charm exhorts the properties of the nine main healing ingredients against poisons . . . mugwort, plantain, stune, venom-loather, chamomile, wegulu, apple, chervil and fennel." 

Severus nodded and recited the charm verse by heart. "These nine have power against nine poisons. A worm came crawling, it killed nothing. For Woden took nine glory-twigs, he smote the adder that it flew apart into nine parts." 

"I remember that verse," said Hermione. "Do you think it's important?" 

"It sounds like a recipe for shattering, don't you think? The adder flew into nine parts, using these nine ingredients. It's worth a try, anyway." 

Hermione nodded. "I have some of those ingredients at the infirmary and I have to check on one of the students. You remember that second year Hufflepuff, Alfred Needlenose?" 

Severus rolled his eyes. "A Neville Longbottom- in- the making, if I recall." 

Hermione stifled a grin. "Yes, well, he injured himself in Herbology this afternoon. He couldn't seem to keep his hands away from the Venus Flytrap and it almost severed a finger. He's meeting me at 8:00 so I can check on his wound. Why don't you walk with me to the infirmary and you can retrieve the potion ingredients while you're there?" 

"I've got one more step to perform on the experimental potion. I'll meet you up there in about five minutes." 

Hermione made her way to the infirmary. Giving the hospital wing a cursory look, she noticed that Taryn Butler was nowhere to be found. "She probably needed a break," she thought. "I haven't been spending enough time with her recently." 

She was waiting for the Hufflepuff student when Draco Malfoy waltzed into the infirmary. "Hermione, my love! It's been hours!" He grinned. 

"Not now, Draco, I'm very busy. Why don't you warn me before you come over?" 

Draco flounced lazily into a chair. "Sorry, I just can't stay away." He noticed a cloak lying across the chair and frowned. "Who owns this cloak?" 

Hermione gave it a brief glance. "It looks like it belongs to Taryn." 

"Taryn Butler? The mediwitch?" Draco picked up the cloak to move it. He caught a whiff of something familiar. 

Perfume. A very familiar perfume. 

Suddenly, the horrible pieces fell into place. 

"Oh shit! Hermione . . . where is Miss Butler?" Hermione looked up to see a look of total panic on Draco's face. 

"I don't know, she was gone when I got here. What the . . ." Draco grabbed her by the arm and Hermione winced at the hard pressure he applied. "Where's Severus?" 

"He's down in the Potions Lab. Draco, whatever is the matter with you?" 

Draco was dragging her out the door. "I can't stop to explain," he yelled. "Follow me . . . oh Merlin! I think Uncle Severus is in trouble! I have reason to believe that Taryn Butler is a Death Eater, possibly an assassin!" 

They began to run down to the Potions Lab. Draco yelled to a Slytherin student, asking if he'd seen Miss Butler down by the dungeons. The student had just enough time to yell to them that he'd seen her about five minutes earlier, near the Potions Lab. 

When they reached the lab, the door was wide open. Entering cautiously, Draco peered into the doorway and was stunned by what he saw. 

The Potions Lab was in total chaos. Broken glass lay on the floor and chairs had been overturned. But most surprising was the sight of Ron Weasley. He had Taryn Butler in a headlock and was struggling to reach her wand. Severus was lying at their feet and Hermione was horrified to see that he was bleeding from his nose, eyes and from the corners of his mouth. He wasn't moving. 

Ron yelled, "Oi! Malfoy! Do you think you could give me a hand here?" He was puffing with exertion. 

Leaving Taryn Butler in the capable hands of Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy, Hermione ran to Severus, kneeling in front of him. She choked back a sob. 

He wasn't breathing. 

************************************************* 

Author's Note: Oooooh! Drat that evil Taryn Butler! How many of you saw that coming, eh? 

Sorry it's taken me a while to update, but real life intervened. Once again, thanks to my wonderful reviewers! You guys keep me writing . . . I love hearing from you. I didn't have time for my beta to review this chapter so I hope there are no glaring mistakes. 

It's not totally intentional, but I can't seem to get away from the dreaded "Cliffhanger". I don't mean to be so evil (bwahahahaha.) I promise to update soon, so you won't be in suspense for too long. 

The Nine Herbs Charm is an actual charm found in G. Storms' "Anglo-Saxon Magic, Martinus Nijoff: The Hague", 1948, pp 187-197. This manuscript is found in the British Museum. 


	12. Chapter 11: Truth

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com 

For life, with all its yield of joy and woe,  
And hope and fear-- believe the aged friend --  
Is just the chance o' the prize of learning love,  
How love might be, hath been indeed, and is;  
And that we hold henceforth to the uttermost  
Such prize despite the envy of the world,  
And, having gained truth, keep truth: that is all. 

~From the poem, "A Death in the Desert" by Robert Browning 

******************************************** 

Chapter 11: Truth 

_"This can't be happening,"_ Hermione thought dimly. The surreal nature of her circumstance almost caused her to lose control, but she fought hard to maintain it. _"He needs me,"_ she whispered to herself. She focused her concentration on Severus. 

As she knelt before him, she leaned over his face and immediately saw that he had small blisters around his nose and mouth. Mentally eliminating several poisons, she frowned and brought her face even closer. She caught a whiff of a distinctive, acrid smell. _"Oh no!"_ she thought. 

Tincture of calotropis. 

Not only that, but that bitch had spelled Severus so that the poison was permeating his skin. She could see the dark energy surrounding his body. If she touched him, she could find herself overwhelmed by the toxic effects of the poison. This was a spell designed to do some major damage. 

Severus was a crumpled mass, and his lank hair had fallen in his face, obscuring his eyes from her view. At the moment he'd been overcome by the poison, his face had contorted into a mask of pain and fear. For the first time ever, he looked as if he'd been caught by surprise. His colour was a terrible bluish tint. Hermione had a hard time looking at him. 

Heart pounding, she fought a feeling of panic_. "What if I can't do this?"_ she said to herself. Her hands began to shake_. "This is no time to lose it,"_ she thought, resolutely. In the distance, she could make out Ron and Draco shouting at each other. Briefly glancing over her shoulder, she could see that Taryn had been immobilized and it appeared that Draco and Ron were arguing over what to do with her. _"They'll work it out,"_ her mind flickered. 

Turning back quickly to her task, she cast a Shielding Charm around herself and touched him for the first time. Feeling his pulse, she noted it to be excruciatingly slow. _"Antidote, antidote"_ . . . . she scanned her mental database. As she watched him, his skin colour worsened and Hermione uttered a quick spell to transform the air around him into pure oxygen. "Breathe, Severus," she told him gently, and the air began to move into his lungs. Hermione charmed it to move under pressure. 

Suddenly, she remembered the antidote. _Belladona!_ Hermione knew that Severus kept a supply in the storeroom. "Accio Belladonna!" she shouted and, as quick as a snitch, the vial was in her hand. Frantically scanning the mess in the lab, she found one of Severus' quills, next to a broken piece of glass. Remembering her battlefield training, Hermione transfigured the quill into a syringe and the piece of glass into a rubber tourniquet. 

"I know you'll forgive my Muggle ways, Severus," she murmured, as she tied the tourniquet around his upper arm. "I have to get this antidote into you fast." She withdrew the Belladonna into the syringe, and carefully measuring it, she injected it into his vein. 

"Please, God," she breathed. "Let this work!" She began to shakily chant a spell designed to make his body and mind more receptive to the healing. 

There was no telling how much poison he'd ingested. 

******************************************************* 

_"Life is a funny thing,"_ thought Draco, as he moved towards Ron Weasley. All these juxtapositions were threatening to permanently disorient him. One minute he's on his broom, the next, Voldemort is yanking his hair. One minute he's draped across a chair and the next, he's wrestling an assassin with a goody- two-shoes Gryffindor. 

_"It's a wonder I'm not barmy,"_ he thought. 

"Get her fucking wand, you pillock!" yelled Ron. 

"No need to be rude, you stupid cow! I don't have to even touch her . . . Petrificus Totalus!" Draco shouted with a dramatic flair. 

Taryn Butler immediately froze, teetering precariously. 

"And you call yourself a wizard, Weasley?" With a curl of his lip, Draco put a hand on Taryn, pushing her over. She landed with a satisfying crash on the floor. 

Ron straightened up to his full, impressive height, red-faced, short of breath and sweating profusely. "She's well trained," he said. "I would have overpowered her . . . eventually." Draco snorted. 

"What were you doing here, Weasley?" 

Ron let out an incomprehensible mumble. 

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you." 

"I said, I'll explain later, it's a very long story! We've got other things to worry about." 

They both looked at Taryn. 

"What do you suppose we should do with her, Malfoy?" 

"I don't know. Maybe we should hang her by her big toes and cast a tickling charm on her until she pukes on your shoes." 

Ron gave him his best sneer. "Same old smart-arsed git, aren't you? What's wrong, can't you think of anything useful?" 

"Of course I can. Don't you realize what a coup this is? Taryn Butler is one of Voldemort's most trusted Death Eaters . . . she'd have to be, for him to give her such an assignment. Think of the information! A few minutes with me and I'll have her squealing like a pig." He gave his most charming smile. 

"Torture is a specialty of mine," he said proudly. 

"Trust you to brag about something like that. But you're right about one thing. She has to know a lot of his secrets. As much as I'd love to see her get the Dementor's Kiss, we'll have to extract information from her. I'm sure you could do the honors, Malfoy." 

"Actually, I hate torture, it's very messy. I'll leave that to the Ministry experts. But I can give pointers!" 

Ron shook his head in exasperation and tiredly rubbed his eyes. "We have to inform the Headmaster." 

"I suppose you're right," sighed Draco. Walking over to Hermione he asked, "How's Uncle Severus?" He couldn't keep the anxiety out of his voice, as much as he tried. Hermione had never seen that look on Draco's face before. If she didn't know better, she would have thought it to be the barest flicker of fear. 

"He's stable, but I still don't know if he's going to survive," she answered quietly. "It depends on how well he responds to the antidote. I'm moving him to his chambers . . . we can't take him to the hospital wing. Nobody can know about this yet. I can get everything I need from the Potions Lab." 

"Yes but first things, first," said Draco. Bending over Taryn, he began to pat at her clothing. "It has to be here, somewhere," he muttered to himself. "Ah ha!" He tugged on a garish silver ring on her right hand. Pulling it off, he opened the jewel and took a sniff. He grimaced. 

"Ergh! Cyanide in a ring! How utterly, utterly predictable! So you were planning to do the world a favor by committing suicide, were you? How noble! Couldn't you and Voldie come up with anything better than this? Aside from the fact that you tried to kill somebody very dear to me, I ought to kill you just because you're bloody stupid!" he yelled. 

The only things that moved on Taryn Butler's body were her eyes, and they were slits of anger. 

"Draco! This isn't helping!" Hermione's voice was pleading. 

"I'm sorry, love. But I'm very angry." Turning to Ron he said, "Watch over the prisoner, Corporal. I'm fetching Dumbledore." He walked quickly from the room. 

_"Malfoys never run,"_ he thought. 

Hermione and Ron finally looked at each other. He'd only seen her briefly in recent months and he quickly took in her fragile appearance. Ordinarily he would have been concerned, but he knew that despite how she looked, she was all steely strength underneath. She'd always been very strong, and she had been his and Harry's rock throughout all their fights against Voldemort. He knelt with her next to Severus. 

"I don't know how you came to be here, Ron, but thank you," she told him softly. Briefly glancing at Taryn Butler's still form on the floor she added, "I can't deal with her. If I look at her, I'm going to want to hurt her and I have to concentrate on Severus." 

"Leave her to me, Hermione. I'll see to it that she pays for what she's done. One way or another." 

Hermione nodded, and pointing her wand at Severus, she murmured, "Mobilicorpus!" He was gently lifted in the air. It was the second time in her life that she'd seen him floating after that spell, but she was determined to make this journey a more comfortable one. She carefully guided him to a far wall of the lab and said, 

"Serpens fortis." 

An open doorway suddenly appeared and Hermione took Severus through the entrance. She remembered the last time she'd been in his chambers, the night that Poppy had died. She pushed that thought away quickly. 

_"He isn't going to die,"_ she thought. _"I won't let him."_

Before gently laying him on his bed, she removed his robes and boots, lovingly caressing them as she laid them across a chair. Withdrawing her crystal wand, she laid a comforting hand on his cheek and began to flick the wand across his prone body. Gradually, the dark spell surrounding him began to lighten and his color improved. He let out a deep sigh and appeared to rest easier. 

There was nothing more to do but wait. As there were no more spells and no more healings to be done, the enormity of what had happened finally hit her like a Weasley Twin Bludger. She began to shake and tears threatened to spill. Her stomach was tied in a thousand knots and she fought a feeling of nausea. Touching him without the Shielding Spell for the first time, she was relieved to find his skin cool to her touch. As her hand lingered over his face, her fingers caressed his lips. _"Such full, sensuous lips, when they're not stretched into a thin scowl,"_ she thought. Her shaking began to subside and she marveled how touching him had somehow healed some of her physical distress. His complexion was rather waxy, but to Hermione, the sight of him quietly breathing was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen. 

Leaning closely to him, she continued to stroke his face. "Please Severus. Don't die." The tears finally spilled. 

"Don't leave me all alone," she whispered. 

***************************************************** 

Ron paced the Potions Lab, waiting for Albus and Draco to arrive. Patience was never a Weasley virtue, although some of his siblings were blessed with more of it than he'd ever been. What the hell! Did Malfoy stop at the opera on his way to get Dumbledore? What was taking so long? 

When Draco finally arrived with Albus, Ron was wholly unprepared for the immediate verbal assault that greeted him. 

"Alright, Weasley! I explained the situation to the Headmaster. Do you think you could enlighten us as to how you came to be in the Potions Lab at the exact moment Taryn Butler was trying to kill my uncle?" 

Ron opened his mouth, the closed it, then opened it again, trying to find the right words. 

"You look like a carp, you idiot. Just start at the beginning." 

Ron sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. It was likely that several people were going to want his head on a platter, starting with the Headmaster. He sat himself down on the Potions Master's desk. 

"Months ago," he began slowly, "Ministry Aurors began getting very vague reports that a spy had either penetrated Hogwarts or was in the process of penetrating the school. The intelligence came from deep underground in Voldemort's organization and we weren't even sure if it was true. Nobody could be certain of the reliability of the source, but one thing was clear. If there was a mole at Hogwarts, many lives were threatened." 

Albus curled a finger through his long white beard. "And nobody saw fit to consult with me about this?" he asked quietly. 

"I'm sorry, sir. I wanted to tell you, but I was under strict orders to stay silent. My assignment came straight from top officials at the Ministry. This information was so sensitive that nobody was to know about this . . . you know how paranoid those in the spy business can be!" 

Albus nodded. "No offense, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, but I always found spying to be a nasty undertaking. All that moral ambiguity is most confusing." 

Ron looked relieved. "Well then, you can understand the level of panic at the Ministry. We immediately thought of two possibilities as to who the spy could be." 

"Let me guess," said Draco dryly. "Me and Uncle Severus. How come we Slytherins are always the first to be suspected of evil-doings?" 

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it's because you were both Death Eaters, you poncey git!" 

"Boys, boys," murmured the Headmaster. 

"Anyway," Ron continued, "We ruled you out pretty early on, Malfoy. You remember back in October, that night you were in The Boom Boom Room and you couldn't stop pinching that brunette waitress on the arse?" 

"You're going to have to be more specific, Weasley. There's a lot of arses and a lot of pinching going on in that place." 

"Well, it was in early October and you'd taken a liking to a new waitress who was serving you drinks all night. What you didn't know is that she worked for the Ministry and while you were busy getting a lap dance, she poured Veratiserum in your scotch. She was able to interrogate you and find out that you were not the spy, and in fact, that you hate Voldemort and your father almost as much as Harry does." 

Draco looked stunned. "I think I remember that night. I'd had only a couple of drinks, and then I couldn't remember anything. I thought I must have been drunk, but then I knew I wasn't drunk, but then I couldn't remember. It was all very confusing." 

"We cast an Obliviate on you." 

"Why you --" Draco went for Ron's throat. "What is it with you Aurors and the Obliviate? Is that your answer to everything?" he shouted. 

Albus easily broke up the fight. "Gentlemen!" he thundered. "It's not important anymore! This is war and it's time to grow up!" 

Draco and Ron looked ashamed. Mumbling an apology, Ron continued with the story. 

"So we knew it had to be someone else. When Professor Snape was unable to prevent the attack at Hogsmeade, the Ministry became suspicious of him. It was the perfect opportunity for Snape to switch sides and really work for Voldemort. He always maintained that his cover was blown with the Death Eaters and that he was useless to them now. But what if that was just an elaborate ruse? What if he was really still working for the Dark Lord? We couldn't take any chances . . . he was working with Hermione." 

"So why didn't you use the Veritaserum on him? Or the Obliviate?" Draco sounded petulant. 

"Because he's a very, very powerful wizard, Malfoy. Nobody could be certain that an Obliviate would even work on him. If he was really working for Voldemort and he found out we were on to him, he could hurt a lot of people, especially Hermione. So I was chosen to spy on him instead. I've been following him and Hermione around for over a month, using Harry's invisibility cloak. It started on their trip to Belize." 

"You were in Belize?" Draco suddenly gave an evil grin. "Hermione's going to kill you, Hermione's going to kill you," he chanted in a sing-song voice. "Can I watch?" 

"She's not going to kill me. She'll understand." 

"If you think so, Weasley." Turning to the Headmaster, Draco asked, "So what are we to do with Butler? I don't have to tell you how important it is that we extract as much information from her as we can. I knew that a woman was visiting Voldemort and was only able to catch a brief glance at her and smell her perfume. When I was in the infirmary this evening, I smelled that same perfume on Butler's cloak. It all made terrible sense, although I have to say that I'm disturbed that the Dark Lord didn't confide in me about this." 

"Probably because he was trying to kill your uncle, Draco," said the Headmaster gently. "And while I agree that Miss Butler should be interrogated, we have to figure out a way to get information without tipping off Voldemort. If he thinks that Miss Butler has been captured, he will change his plans." 

Albus looked thoughtful before continuing. "What if he believes Miss Butler is dead? That she and Severus killed each other? You're in a unique position to convince him of that, Mr. Malfoy." 

"Convince Voldemort that his little pet, Taryn Butler, is dead at my uncle's hands? He was very attached to her, he told me that she pleased him very much. It will drive him absolutely barking." 

"An added bonus," smiled the Headmaster. "So gentlemen, I think it best we move Miss Butler to the dungeon in Remus' office . . . how ironic that the same pit that held poor Alastor Moody should now hold Voldemort's alpha-assassin! Quite fitting, don't you agree?" 

"Headmaster," said Ron tentatively. "How is this going to play out? I mean, who should know about this and who should be kept in the dark? Butler's presence here is very sensitive." 

"We'll be having a meeting of just the core members of The Order of The Phoenix and we'll have to decide what to do at that time. Until then, nobody outside Hermione and the three of us is to know what's happened here." He held out his hand. 

Putting their hands on top of Albus', the three of them vowed to keep silent about what had occurred in that room. 

********************************************************** 

Ron, Draco and the Headmaster stopped at Severus' chamber to check on his status before taking Taryn to the dungeons. Hermione told them that he appeared to be a little bit better and that she was more optimistic about his chances. Albus looked markedly relieved at the news. 

Thinking they'd all left the room, Hermione turned back to Severus and continued to speak to him in soft tones. "I was so scared when I saw you, Severus. I didn't know if I could heal you. What if this fails? I can't bear it." She laid her head on his chest. 

Hearing the sound of a deep voice clearing behind her, she whirled, only to see Ron standing there. Her shoulders sagged and she said, "I thought you'd already left." She looked at him distractedly before turning back and smoothing Severus' hair. 

Ron braced himself for what he was going to say. 

"Hermione, I debated whether or not to tell you this, but there's a reason I was in Professor Snape's lab tonight. I think I owe you an explanation." 

When told her that he'd been secretly following her and Snape for weeks, he could barely look her in the eye. The devastation on her countenance was one of the most painful things he'd ever witnessed. She looked as if she felt totally betrayed. Oh Lord! How was he ever going to fix this? 

Hermione couldn't believe what she had just heard. "How could you?" she whispered. 

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I know we were wrong about him, in fact, I told the Ministry that I thought he was really on our side, but they wanted me to continue spying on him." 

"So you just followed orders." 

"Yes," he said in shame. "I was just trying to protect you." 

Hermione looked at him as if he were a stranger. Ron couldn't stand it. 

"I know that you're having a secret relationship with Professor Snape," he blurted out. "I couldn't understand your attraction to him, and when I saw you two in Belize, I was ready to kill him." He looked pleadingly at her. "It was obvious you felt something for him and I was jealous. There was even a time I was hoping that he _was_ a spy so that I could get him out of your life. But then something happened," he said softly. "I saw you two together and I saw how well-suited you are. I saw the way you looked at each other when you thought the other wasn't looking. I've always thought Snape was a mean-spirited, greasy git, but after following him around in his private life, well . . . he's really not a bad fellow. He's rather honorable and brave. And he cares for you very much, Hermione. Did you know that he mutters your name in his sleep?" 

Hermione blushed. 

"There was a time when I thought you were the only woman for me. But then I realized that we're really not all that compatible, other than as friends." 

"We'd probably kill each other," said Hermione, as tears began to fall. They both laughed. 

"Severus Snape is a lucky man, Hermione. I hope that when this is all over, you can be together. I just want you to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted." 

"You're the best, Ron Weasley," she told him. She put her arms around him and gave him a tight hug. "Thank you for being there for Severus. I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost him." 

Ron smiled at her. "I'm glad I could help. Now I'm going to meet with the Headmaster, and then I'm spending the night in the castle. I'll see you in the morning." 

************************************************** 

After Ron left, Hermione turned her attention back to Severus. He was resting peacefully, the steady rise and fall of his chest a much-needed reassurance. She looked at his face and noticed how vulnerable he looked in his sleep. His face was thin and his nose and chin were angled in sharp planes. He looked younger and for a moment Hermione could see the boy he had once been. In an instant she remembered every minute she had spent with him since she came back to Hogwarts. She couldn't imagine a future without him, and suddenly, the thought hit her with astounding clarity: 

_I love him. _

She shook her head in disbelief. _"It's finally happened,"_ she thought. _"This is what it feels like."_

Making a decision, she slowly stood up and took off her robe. Crawling into bed with him, she pulled herself flush against his body. She murmured another final spell and her body began to glow with a deep emerald green aura. She marveled at how many of the healing spells she knew gave off a dark, emerald green energy, while the Killing Curse released a harsh, painful metallic green. _"One color, two outcomes,"_ she thought with irony. 

The healing green energy enfolded them both, and laying her head on his chest, she began to drift off to sleep. Before unconsciousness completely overtook her, she whispered, "I love you, Severus." 

At some point in the night, while still sleeping, Severus began to stir restlessly. He instinctively entwined his arms around her and held her closely to his body. Turning his head, he inhaled the sweet scent of her hair and sighed, a small smile curving his lips. 

He fell back into a deep and peaceful sleep. 

  
_To be continued . . .  _

*********************************************************** 

Author's Note: "Serpens fortis" means "Strong snake" in Latin. 

Let's hope Severus is a "strong snake"! (wink wink)


	13. Chapter 12: Wrench

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


There is that in me- I do not know what it is- but I  
know it is in  
me.  
Wrench'd and sweaty- calm and cool then my body  
becomes,  
I sleep- I sleep long. 

~From the poem, "Song of Myself" by Walt Whitman 

********************************************************** 

Chapter 12: Wrench 

Severus woke to darkness, his mind heavy with sleep as he struggled to remember something important. Feeling a weight across his body, he slowly opened his eyes. A fuzzy image of dark hair, curls in riotous display, met his sleepy gaze and he sucked in a startled breath. 

Oh! What was this? 

Closing his eyes, he fought to remember what had happened. He had a horrible headache and felt very weak, but apart from that, he couldn't remember how it came to be that he was lying in his own bed, Hermione Granger draped across his body. 

His last memory was of being in the Potions Lab . . . Did he have a visitor? Before he could search his mind more deeply, Hermione let out a soft sigh and hugged him even closer. Severus felt his heart rate accelerate. Glancing over at the window, he flushed with embarrassment. 

After they'd come back from Belize, he'd found his estrangement from Hermione very hard to bear. While he would never have admitted it at the time, he'd been desperate for a connection to her and in a moment of weakness, he'd conjured up a window to match the one he'd enchanted for her the afternoon that Poppy had died. Hogwarts now boasted two windows in the dungeons. 

He sighed in defeat. "There is no hiding it now," he thought. Slowly but surely, Hermione was knocking down his defenses, and what was worse, she knew it. He fought a feeling of dread, but deeply squelched it. "She won't hurt me," he thought with certainty. But he still felt an unnamed sense of unease. 

Concentrating on the window, Severus saw the drapes begin to move as if pushed away by invisible hands. He smiled in satisfaction. Doing wandless magic did have its advantages: He didn't even have to move from his very comfortable vantage point, so his arms and legs remained entangled with hers. 

He knew they shouldn't be doing this, that it was an indulgence that was best left unsavored. "Later," he thought to himself. "There's time enough to be rational later, but for now I'll enjoy this." He closed his eyes again. 

Hermione let out a sleepy squeak and rolled over, on to her back. As the sun rose on the horizon across the lake, she again rolled over to her side, taking Severus with her. Pressing his body against her back, he reached around her and splayed his hand across her abdomen, a possessive gesture, but one that made him shiver with pleasure. He propped himself up on his elbow, his hair mingling with hers, and watched as a shaft of morning light moved across their prone bodies. Still sleeping, Hermione covered his hand with her own and moved them together until they were just touching the rounded swell of her breast. Severus fought to keep his breathing calm. 

They lay together for several minutes until the sunlight finally moved to illuminate her peaceful face. 

Severus gazed at her, admiring how the light played off her hair. She stirred and stretched, letting out a low growl. He leaned over and experimenting, he kissed a soft spot behind her ear. She arched her neck, awed at the feeling of his malleable lips on her skin. 

"Good morning," he murmured in a silky voice. 

She trembled, then turned to him, a dazzling smile playing on her lips. "Now that's something I never thought I'd ever hear you say to me." 

"Life is full of surprises, I guess." 

"I can't begin to tell you how glad I am to see you. I thought I'd never speak to you again," Hermione tried to keep the tremor out of her voice, but was wholly unsuccessful. She turned to him completely, and he lowered his head, so that they were lying side by side on the pillow. She brushed a hand across his neck, until it came to rest in his hair. Looking deeply in her eyes, he asked, "What happened?" 

"Taryn Butler poisoned you." 

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Alas, her love for me was toxic," he said sardonically. 

"Severus! It's nothing to joke about! She nearly killed you," Hermione admonished him as she lifted her head. 

"And you saved me, of course," he said quietly. Cupping his hand behind her neck, he swooped his head upwards, giving her a short, sweet kiss. "Thank you," he whispered. 

They lay in silence for a moment, content to let their eyes roam over the other. Finally Severus cleared his throat and asked the inevitable question. 

"How did you find me?" 

Hermione sighed. "After I left you in the Potions Lab, Draco came to the infirmary to see me. Apparently, he'd seen Voldemort earlier that day and smelled the perfume of a woman who was visiting the Dark Lord. When he came to the hospital wing, he smelled the same perfume and put the pieces together that Taryn Butler was a Death Eater. Worried about you, we ran to the lab and found Ron Weasley wrestling with her, but she'd already poisoned you. I found a hankerchief, saturated with --" 

"Tincture of calotropis," he finished for her. "I remember now. I was surprised to see her." He looked at Hermione with uncertainty. "I didn't tell you, but she came on to me a couple of weeks ago and I'd been avoiding her ever since. She came to see me in the Lab, telling me that she wanted to apologize for her behavior. Before I could wave her off, she'd moved in front of me, shoving a hankerchief into my face. The last thing I remember was recognizing the smell of calotropis. Nothing after that." 

"It was very lucky for us that Voldemort chose calotropis . . . it's got a very distinctive odor. And thanks to Draco and Ron, they were able to immobilize her while I gave you an injection of Belladonna." Hermione couldn't help adding, "It's known as Atropine, in the muggle world." 

Severus smirked. "According to old legends, the plant belongs to the devil, who goes about trimming and tending it in his leisure, and can only be diverted from its care on one night in the year, that is on Walpurgis, when he is preparing for the witches' sabbath. It's a silly superstition, but I always keep a vial of it in the storeroom . . . I'll bet you knew that," he added teasingly. 

Hermione chuckled. 

Severus disengaged from her in reluctance and sat up. "So much has happened," he said. "I have work to do and --" he stopped abruptly. "Oh Nimue! I feel like shit!" he exclaimed. 

Hermione coughed discreetly, hiding a grin behind her hand. "There will be no work coming from you today, Severus Snape. You need to rest. Don't worry about the potion, it's coming along better than I could have hoped . . . I can feel it . . . we're so close to finishing it, love." 

She turned her head away quickly, her face colouring. She hadn't meant for that term of endearment to slip out. 

Severus acted as if he hadn't heard her, but inwardly he reacted like a teenaged boy. "She called me 'love!'" he thought with giddiness. Then he abruptly frowned and ammended his thought. "Get a grip, you old codger." 

Hermione noticed his frown, and feared she'd gone too far. Suddenly, he turned to her, his face alight with something he'd just remembered. 

"I meant to ask . . . why was Weasley in the Potions Lab?" 

Oh Merlin! She'd forgotten about that! 

Hermione swallowed hard. She had a feeling he wasn't going to like the answer. 

****************************************************** 

Draco walked aimlessly through the hallways at Hogwarts, deep in thought. He'd spent the night in the castle and had fallen into an exhausted sleep. After the events of the previous evening, he didn't feel that he could go back to Malfoy Manor, not without getting the story straight, anyway. Doubtless, Voldemort and his Death Eaters were waiting to hear of Severus Snape's demise and he wasn't about to be the one to break the news. 

No, he'd leave that to the Headmaster. 

Draco heard the sound of pounding feet behind him. "Malfoy! I just heard what happened last night!" Harry caught up to him, breathless from running. 

Yes, it's true, Potter! Taryn Butler tried to kill my uncle, but thanks to my quick thinking, I was able to immobilize her and save the day! I'm a hero, now . . . you're just going to have to share the spotlight." 

Harry rolled his eyes. "As I heard it, you had a lot of help, you gob shite." 

"No need to call me names, you jealous tit," Draco sounded sulky. "I found the elusive spy, I saved my uncle's life and I've probably saved the war effort. The least you can do is show me a little respect." 

"I'd show you more respect if you could share some of the credit. As I understand it, you had some help from Ron and Hermione." 

Draco couldn't help but grin in acknowledgement. "Maybe I did," he said. 

Harry fell into step beside him. "The Headmaster is calling a meeting of The Order of the Phoenix. We have to come up with a plan." 

Draco nodded. " A lot has happened in the last twenty-four hours." He hesitated before going on. "I've been meaning to speak to you. It's about Ginny Weasley." 

Harry immediately looked guarded. "What about her?" 

Draco stopped and turned to Harry. "I don't pretend to know what's going on with the two of you. There has been talk amongst the Death Eaters that you and she were, how shall I put it? Shagging like bunnies?" 

"That's none of your business, Malfoy." 

"Oh, but it's been made my business, by the Dark Lord! I'm sure you'll be interested to know that Voldemort has, erm . . . " He paused for dramatic effect. "He's got romantic designs on her, Potter. The fact that you're involved with her has only made him hate you even more. He talks of seducing her to the Dark Side, and given her history in the Chamber of Secrets, he thinks she's susceptible to him. He wants to make her his princess, or empress, or queen . . . something." 

Harry felt his heart grow cold. 

"That can't be true," he whispered. 

"It is, " Draco snarled. "You're just going to have to deal with it. She needs to be warned, although I have to confess it would be amusing to have you lose your girlfriend to that freak of nature. She obviously has atrocious taste in wizards." 

Harry grabbed Draco by the collar of his robe and shoved. "You've gone too far!" he roared. 

Draco immediately felt an unfamiliar stab of regret. "I'm sorry, Potter," he said quietly. "Old habits die hard, and all." 

Harry and Draco had been making their way up to the Headmaster's chambers and Harry sat down on one of the steps leading to his office. He ran a hand through his unruly hair. 

"What is this all about really? Why do you think Voldemort is really interested in Ginny?" 

"I haven't a clue. I imagine it's just another way to distract you. War is complicated, you know." 

"Complicated. Is that how you really look at it? I always thought it was simple. You chose a side and you fight like hell until you win. Fighting for what you believe in is the only thing that matters." 

Draco snickered. "Gryffindor in a nutshell," he said mockingly. 

Harry looked chagrined. "Sometimes you have to break things down into their simple components. It's easier to deal with that way." 

Draco contemplated this. "I could never make things so simple. When I was fourteen, something happened in my life that changed the way I look at everything. You think you have it all figured out, but you don't, Potter. Some famous muggle chap once wrote, 'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Of course, Horatio is a very silly name," he added pompously. 

"I guess hell has officially frozen over, now," Harry said with amusement. "You're quoting Shakespeare? What would your father say?" He studied Draco out of the corner of his eye. "So what happened when you were fourteen?" he asked bluntly. 

Draco's face immediately changed into a hardness that was very familiar to Harry. He'd seen it often enough in school. 

"No need to concern yourself with it," he said harshly. "Suffice it to say that I've got my reasons for doing what I'm doing." 

Harry shook his head. "I can only imagine, Malfoy." He stood up and began ascending the stairs. 

Draco followed closely behind him. "What are you going to do about Ginny Weasley?" 

"I have no idea." 

**************************************************** 

Lucius Malfoy sat in his vast library, staring moodily into the fire. There were hundreds of books lining the shelves, most of them unread or never opened, but they were only there for show, so it didn't really matter. Narcissa had insisted on a well-stocked library, as it was considered fashionable and bespoke of good breeding. Lucius snorted at the thought. His bloodline was indisputably pure and no book was going to ever change that. He absently sipped at his tea and sorted through the morning's mail. He hated tea, to be honest, but unfortunately, it was too early for brandy. 

His thoughts roamed to the war and his current place in it. He had confidently placed himself squarely on the path to unfathomable power and nothing was going to sway him now. Thousands of years of Malfoy scheming and fighting had brought him to the cusp of greatness, one step away from achieving everything he'd ever wanted. Only one thing stood in his way. 

His son. 

For years Draco had been a great disappointment to him . . . his grades had never been good enough and he was irreverant and weak-spirited. Sulky and spoiled, he'd never really grasped the rules of the game, no matter how hard Lucius had tried to pound them into him. Draco had taken the Dark Mark in his seventh year and his reluctance had been a thorn in his father's side ever since. He'd thought that the boy didn't have what it took to rise amongst the ranks of the Dark Lord's minions, yet he'd somehow placed himself amongst Voldemort's closest confidants. 

Lucius didn't trust the boy. 

Yes, he had a modicum of ambition and there was a cruel streak that Lucius had tried to nurture, but he didn't seem to have the will to do the unpleasantries expected of somebody in Voldemort's service. Much to his surprise, it didn't seem to matter to the Dark Lord that Draco had somehow avoided getting his hands dirty these past years. Instead, Voldemort had embraced his son as a trusted servant and had seen to it that Draco knew most of the deepest secrets of the war effort. Lucius was beginning to suspect that his Master was a fool. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a shirking house elf, who'd tentatively opened the door to the library. "Forgive me, my Lord," he squeaked. "Master Hamilton is here to see you." 

"Send him in," said Lucius, as he stood to receive his guest. 

A tall, thin man with graying hair and a short-cropped beard entered to the library, his rich black robes meant to show off old money and good taste. "Lucius, my dear man!" he exclaimed. "So lovely to see you looking so well." 

After an exchange of pleasantries, Lucius offered his guest something to drink, which he politely declined. 

"So what brings you here on such a cold morning, Julius?" 

Hamilton paused to sit in a plush chair by the fireplace. "I have news of your son, and I'm afraid it's not good." 

Lucius joined him by the fire. "You know I value your friendship and I appreciate your coming to me with this. What has the boy done now?" He braced himself, showing no outward emotion. 

"As you know, my youngest son, Andrew, is in his seventh year at Hogwarts." 

"A fine boy," murmured Lucius. "A credit to Slytherin, if I may say." 

"Well, thank you for that. At any rate, Andrew was witness to something very disturbing last night. He tells me that he was walking through the dungeons, on his way back to the common room, when he was surprised by Draco and that Mudblood--what's her name?" 

"Hermione Granger." Lucius said her name as if it left a terrible taste in his mouth. "My son has been courting her, under orders from our Lord, though it's been a most odious task." 

Julius Hamilton couldn't help snorting discreetly at this statement. Although he and Lucius had been friends for years, there had always been a healthy competition between them. This latest news was going to be a big blow to the infamous Malfoy ego, but Lucius had to know what was going on with his son. If Hamilton took secret pleasure in telling him, who could blame him? 

"Perhaps it's not really an act, Lucius. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but Andrew tells me that Draco and this Granger chit ran by him in a hurry last night, running toward the Potions Lab. It seems that they were looking for Taryn Butler and had reason to believe that she was somewhere near the lab. Curious, my boy followed them." 

"And what did he find, if I may ask?" Lucius felt a deep sense of anxiety, which he hid well. 

"Our Lord had put his plans for assasination into action. Severus Snape was lying on the floor, obviously poisoned, but Taryn was struggling with a red-haired man, a Weasely, most likely. Your son joined in the fight, disarming her. You don't happen to know why he would interfere with the wishes of our Master, would you?" 

Lucius shook his head angrily. "That little bastard!" he said forcefully. "Is your son sure about this?" 

"He stayed long enough to see Draco leave to get the Headmaster. I'd say that he's working closely with the enemy, Lucius. I'm sorry to be the one to have to tell you this." 

Lucius' mind was screaming. His first thought was to find Draco and beat the living shit out of him. Immediately. Instead, he said calmly, "I'll deal with him in my own way. Rest assured, Julius, that I will see to it that he sees the error of his ways. We may be able to use this to our advantage. That fool Dumbledore believes my son has turned against me. For now, I think it best that he continue to believe that. Does anybody else know about this?" 

"No, I came straight to you. I knew that if the situation were reversed, you'd do the same for me. Obviously, you must deal with this, before your son does something to dishonor the Malfoy name. I trust you can get him to see reason?" 

Lucius nodded. "I'll see to it, make no mistake about that," he said with malice. "Can your son be trusted to keep quiet?" 

"I've already taken care of it. For his protection, I've had the memory removed. It seemed best." 

"That was very wise of you. And what of Severus Snape?" Lucius couldn't hide the distaste in his voice, he'd never liked Narcissa's cousin. 

"It is unknown as to whether or not he survived," said Julius. "Andrew says that Granger was trying to heal him when he left. I wish I could tell you more." 

Hamilton stood. "I must be getting back. Edwina says lunch is going to be served promptly at noon and I have many stops to make until then. She'll have my head if I'm late." He extended his hand. "Good luck to you, Lucius. I have every confidence that you'll do the right thing. Please let me know what happens, I don't want to get caught in the middle of it." 

Lucius reassured him and saw him to the door. Eyeing his reflection in a mirror in the entrance hall, his lips stretched into a thin, cruel grimace. 

"My son is going to regret the day he was born," he vowed. 

TBC 

******************************************* 

Author's note: My usual thanks to everyone, especially those who took the time to review. I proof-read this myself as Elizabeth had other things going on. Feel better, girlie! I'm not nearly as good at this beta stuff as she is, so please ignore any errors. 

The quote from Shakespeare in this chapter was obviously from "Hamlet", or as I call it, the "Prozac Poster Boy", LOL. 

Poor, poor Draco . . . I hope everything turns out all right for the little wanker. 


	14. Chapter 13: Save

Shattered  
by Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com  
  
  
Disclaimer: Rated R for language and sexual situations. Just thought I'd remind you.  
  
*********************************  
turn out the light  
just say goodnight,   
to yourself  
may I remind you  
when you find   
you're all alone is   
when you've   
got to be strong  
cause that's when   
they call you,   
in the night  
he's got your   
picture in his mind  
he's got your number   
on a paper at his   
disposal anytime   
  
From the song, "Save Yourself" by Sense Field  
  
************************************  
  
Chapter 13: Save  
  
Albus adjusted his spectacles and made note of the expectant faces peering at him from around the room. Everybody was present for the meeting, except for Severus, who was still recovering from the effects of the poison. He fervently hoped that this gathering would go better than the last one. He chuckled to himself, remembering Hermione bolting from the room with Severus hot on her heels. Who would have thought that Hermione Granger, of all people, could produce such an unexpected reaction in his Potions Master? While, in many ways, Severus was still a mystery to the Headmaster, one thing was obvious. He had deep feelings for the girl, no matter how hard he tried to hide them.  
  
"Albus. You're daydreaming again," said Minerva accusingly. "Are we going to have this meeting or not?"  
  
"Trust you to cut to the chase, my dear," said Albus. He looked at them from above his crescent lenses. "By now, you all know about Taryn Butler. As Mr. Weasley here, has been in charge of security, I'll let him fill you in on what's going on."  
  
Ron cleared his throat nervously and his freckles seemed to stand out even more than usual. He had been a little apprehensive about coming to this meeting and facing Severus Snape, but to his relief, their confrontation would have to wait for another day. "Butler has been in interrogation all night with Ministry aurors, and they were very successful in obtaining vital information from her," he announced.  
  
"You mean, she was very susceptible to Ministry torturers," ventured Draco with a knowing look. "Tell me, did you call in the Torture Twins? What are their names? Hansel and Gretel?"  
  
"I take it you're referring to our top Ministry Interrogators," Ron said, looking put out. "And for your information, Malfoy, it's Hans and Greta."  
  
"Whatever," Draco muttered. "They're a scary pair, those two."  
  
Ron chose to ignore him. "Butler told us that Voldemort's been very ill. From bits and pieces she was able to gather, she believes that he plans to use Hermione to heal himself."  
  
Hermione frowned thoughtfully. "That doesn't make sense," she said. "Voldemort has plenty of healers amongst his ranks. Thelonius Sleazard turned to the Dark Side years ago and he was a master healer, in his day. Why is Voldemort interested in me?"  
  
Ron looked anxious. "Well now, there's the rub. Upon further, erm, 'questioning', the aurors learned that Voldemort has been reading a very rare book. It's called, 'Arcanus Sentiens' and from Butler's description, it looks very, very old. We've tried to find the book, but so far, we've been unsuccessful. There are only three copies that we know of, and one of them is apparently buried somewhere in the Sahara. We don't know where the other one is."  
  
Draco had been listening quietly to what was being said, and noticed that upon mention of the title of the book, Hermione stiffened suddenly and her face went very pale. It was subtle, but Draco was willing to bet that she knew something about the importance of the book. Years of watching body language as a spy told him that Hermione was very troubled by what Ron was saying, but for some reason, she chose to stay silent.   
  
Interesting.  
  
Albus cleared his throat. "I think that I may be able to help with finding the book. I've got some underground sources, who, for obvious reasons, don't want Ministry aurors poking about. I may be able to open some doors, but I'm afraid I'll have to keep identities a secret." He turned to Ron. "I trust you'll help keep the aurors out of it?"  
  
Ron nodded. "I think I can pacify them. They're really just interested in obtaining the book. If that means sources are kept from them, I believe they'll accept that. No choice, really. My colleagues are a practical bunch."  
  
Remus spoke up. " 'Arcanus Sentiens' means 'Sentient Secret'. Obviously, this has to do with Hermione's status as a Sentient. Do you know anything about this book, Hermione?"  
  
"Only rumors, really. I do know that it addresses how a Sentient obtains his or her powers. Other than that, I really don't know."  
  
"She's lying," thought Draco. "The question is, why?"  
  
Albus seemed satisfied with her answer, though. "Don't worry, Hermione. We'll figure it out," he said smoothly. He got up from his chair to stroke Fawkes' tail feathers before continuing. "So now, the question becomes, what to do with Miss Butler? I believe it prudent that Voldemort thinks she's dead. Otherwise, he'll know that she's been questioned. Any suggestions?"  
  
Draco grinned suddenly. "I think that we should tell people that she and Uncle Severus killed each other during sex. It would do wonders to enhance his reputation," he added.  
  
"You're disgusting, you know that?" Harry couldn't keep the amusement from creeping into his voice.  
  
"Thank you, Potter. That's what I was aiming for."  
  
Albus shook his head and brought them back to the original question. "Erm, interesting suggestion, Mr. Malfoy, but I don't think your uncle would be as appreciative as you think. No, we need something else."  
  
"Well," ventured Minerva tentatively. "What if we say they died in a potions accident? I know that Severus wouldn't like the implication that he'd made a fatal mistake, but even a Potions Master has his bad days," she added dryly.  
  
"That seems reasonable," said Albus. "But we'll have to produce a body for Taryn Butler. And it would have to be convincing. Anyone?"  
  
There was silence for a few moments, then Minerva spoke again, "I have read of a transfiguration technique." She was twisting her hands nervously in her lap. "It involves the use of Dark Magic," she said in a grim tone. "A large animal is used, usually a bear or perhaps a buck. We would then poison it with a botched potion and once the animal was dead, I could tranform it into the likeness of Miss Butler. We could hide the magic from close scrutiny, at least long enough for her family to claim her. It's a good thing that wizarding tradition is such that the body must be buried within twenty-four hours. If we're lucky, her family will opt for cremation, so there would definitely be no trace."   
  
"How do you feel about using Dark Magic, Minerva?" asked Remus. "Are you sure you can emotionally handle it?"  
  
Minerva nodded her head vigorously. "If it meant the end of Voldemort, I would do anything."  
  
"So, it's settled then," said Albus. "Now the question becomes, what do we do with Severus?"  
  
"I can answer that," said a familiar, velvet voice. "I must leave Hogwarts. Immediately."  
  
Startled, everyone turned around to look at the Potions Master. He was dressed in his usual black robes, his pale skin standing out in even greater contrast than usual. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest, and it was obvious he was still very weak.  
  
"Severus," Hermione's voice was firm. "You should be resting in bed." She refused to acknowledge what he'd just said.  
  
"Later," he growled. "I have some unfinished business." Turning to Ron, he withdrew his wand.  
  
Ron's eyes widened, and for a moment, the only thing he could do was to quickly screw his eyes shut to brace himself against the inevitable. It came fast and furiously. An angry, jagged red energy shot from Severus' wand and before anybody could blink, the tall, lanky frame of Ron Weasley was instantly transformed.  
  
Sitting in his place was a small green newt. The only thing identifying it as Ron Weasley was a wiry tuft of red hair perched on its homely, little head.  
  
"A distinct improvement," said the Potions Master, happily.  
  
************************************************  
  
After Ron was turned into a newt, all semblance of order was lost from the meeting. Harry jumped up to shout at Severus and Remus had to prevent him from hexing the Potions Master into oblivion. Albus called for order, but it was a futile gesture. Everyone was talking at once, except for Draco, who'd been reduced to hysterical laughter at the sight of Ron Weasley. "It's not easy being green!" he hooted, gleefully. Ron the Newt, on the other hand, had the presence of mind to look embarrassed before Professor McGonagall took pity on him and turned him back into a human.  
  
During the chaos, Severus had quietly slipped from the room, and now he was nowhere to be found. Hermione suspected that he'd made his way back to his chambers, to lick his wounds in quiet solitude. She was anxious for the meeting to adjourn so she could interrogate him about his little announcement.  
  
When things finally quieted down, Albus once again focused their attention to the topic at hand. "There's one more thing on the agenda," he said. Searching the faces around the room he said, "Severus is right. It's too much of a risk to have him here at Hogwarts. We are going to be announcing his death to the school this morning. No doubt, the news is going to be shocking to the students --"  
  
"But happiness will reign supreme, especially amongst the Gryffindors," added Draco, truthfully. Hermione shot him a dirty look. "Well, it's true," he said to her, defensively.  
  
She sighed. "I know. He can be a real bastard sometimes, but to be glad he's dead is appalling."  
  
"Yes, but think of the sympathy factor for me," said Draco cheerfully. "After all, he *was* my uncle. If I play the part of grieving nephew, the girls will be swarming me." He beamed with happiness at the thought.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head at him.  
  
"Be that as it may," said the Headmaster, "I've been thinking about this all night and I've come up with a way to hide Severus until it's time for the final confrontation with Voldemort. For everyone's protection, and for the sake of security, I think it best if his whereabouts are kept secret."  
  
"Even from me?" asked Hermione.  
  
"Especially from you, my dear. It's not safe for you to know. In fact, it's paramount that nobody know of his whereabouts." Albus looked sympathetic. "You'll have time to say goodbye to him, but not much. It's important that we do this quickly."  
  
Hermione's lower lip trembled and she looked to be on the verge of tears. Draco found himself uncharacteristically putting a comforting arm around her.  
  
Albus continued. "My team has been working on the Soul Shattering Spell and that will continue, of course. We're making very good progress. Severus will be able to continue work on the potion and although you won't be there to help him physically, Hermione, I can act as a go-between while you complete it. I know it's not the same thing as being there, but we've no choice, really. Severus will be supplied with a state-of-the-art potions lab and he tells me that he's learned enough from your notes and sessions together to finish what you've both started."  
  
He paused. "I know there's a lot to think about, we've much to do. Minerva, please come with me so we can begin the transfiguration process to simulate the body of Taryn Butler. I'm sure Hagrid can help us find the appropriate animal, although we mustn't tell him the reason we need it. He's terrible with secrets. I'm sure he'll understand our deception, once this is all over."  
  
Minerva was thoughtful. "I'll need to thoroughly examine Taryn Butler for any marks or scars she may have on her body. It's important that the tranformation be completely accurate."  
  
Draco perked up. "You're going to examine a naked Taryn Butler? Can I help? I'm an expert in the field of female anatomy," he added, in what he hoped was a wheedling, persuasive tone.  
  
"No!" shouted McGonagall.  
  
Draco looked crestfallen.  
  
"And on that note, I'd say the meeting is over," said the Headmaster drolly.  
  
Hermione bolted from the room.  
  
*******************************************   
  
Draco entered the Library of Malfoy Manor, whistling a bawdy tune to himself. He'd spent the night Hogwarts and hadn't seen his father in several days. It was easy to get lost in that monstrosity of a house. If Lucius asked on his whereabouts, Draco would inform him that he'd spent the night in Hermione Granger's bed. He could just picture the look of distaste on his father's face. "It's a dirty job, father, but somebody has to do it," he planned on saying.   
  
The library was dark, and the only light illuminating the room came from a cold fire from the fireplace. Lucius' favorite chair was facing away from him, but Draco could see his father's arm, draped elegantly on the armrest.  
  
"Hello, father dearest," said Draco cheerfully. He noticed Lucius' hand clenching before he got up and faced his son.  
  
His face looked like thunder. "You fucking son of a bitch!" he roared. Before Draco could react, his father pointed his wand at him. A thick black energy shot out and the end of it formed a huge fist. It slammed into Draco's face and he went reeling across the floor. He was speechless in astonishment.  
  
"What the hell was that all about?" he shouted. Lucius walked briskly to him and shoved his wand under Draco's chin.  
  
"You think you can betray our Lord and get away with it?" he growled with menace. "I know everything, you stupid, stupid boy. The question is, what do I do with you? I may be merciful and ask you your preference on how you want to die. If you beg me."  
  
"Oh shit," thought Draco. His mind whirled quickly, assessing his situation and instantaneously coming up with a plan of action. Before Lucius had a chance to notice, Draco's eyes had narrowed and he revealed his wand, which he'd been hiding from behind his back.  
  
"Turbotumesco!" he shouted, pointing the wand at his father.  
  
A whirling blue light flew from his wand tip and hit Lucius square in the chest. The older man was lifted from the floor and his body began to swirl like a spinning top. Throwing his weight into the motion, Draco flicked his wand and his father slammed against the stone wall of the library.  
  
"Consisto!" Draco said with quiet menace and Lucius was pinned to the wall, his long hair swirling around his face.  
  
"Where the hell did you learn that?" his father managed to utter.  
  
"From 'The How To Be Evil Handbook' . . . Volume Two. Remember that Christmas present you gave me two years ago? I've been practicing." Draco gave him a superior smirk.  
  
He sarcastically continued. "Do you really think I'd betray the Dark Lord? Despite our gene pool, I'm not that stupid. I gave up Taryn Butler for a reason . . . for a much greater purpose. The members of the Order of the Phoenix have completely accepted me and have taken me into their confidence. They think I've turned against you. The good news is that I know now what they have planned for Voldemort. If you're a good little daddy, I'll share the secret with you. But first, Expelliarmus!" Lucius' wand flew into Draco's hand. "Not that I don't trust you or anything," he murmured.  
  
Lucius rubbed his jaw. "Why didn't you come to me with this in the first place?"  
  
"A spy never gives up his secrets unless forced . . . you know that, father. Besides, it wasn't until this morning that I learned of the true extent of their plans," he lied. He leaned forward and with calculated effect he said quietly. "They've come up with a potion and a spell to kill Voldemort. And they're almost ready to use it," he added.  
  
Lucius was instantly interested. "What kind of spell and potion?"  
  
"One that is designed to shatter his soul, father. And I'm coming up with a plan to prevent it from happening. Would you like to help?"  
  
Lucius looked so relieved that he didn't see the brief look of anxiety flicker across his son's face.  
  
"Gods, how am I ever going to save The Plan?" thought Draco.   
  
This was going to change everything.  
  
TBC  
  
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Author's notes: Is Draco going to betray The Order of the Phoenix to save his own skin? Would he really do that? Tune in tomorrow . . . OK, it may take longer then that to play this all out, hehehe.  
  
Again, I can't thank my reviewers enough for their support and encouragement. You guys are the best!  
  
I got the idea for the Torture Twins from the cancelled TV show "Le Femme Nikita". It was one of my favorite programs, in its day. I don't remember the names of the Torture Twins, but I do remember they were German. 


	15. Chapter 14: Goodbye

Disclaimer: The usual . . . don't own HP, but the plot is mine.  
  
Rated R for language and sexual situations . . . this chapter depicts, um, the latter, so if you're not supposed to be reading this, turn back now!  
  
  
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Your kisses close my eyes and yet you stare  
As though god struck a child with nameless fears;  
Perhaps the water glitters and discloses  
Time's chalice and its limpid useless tears.  
  
Everything we renounce except our selves;  
Selfishness is the last of all to go;  
Our sighs are exhalations of the earth,  
Our footprints leave a track across the snow.  
  
From the poem, "Goodbye" by Alun Lewis  
  
*******************************************  
  
  
Chapter 14: Goodbye  
  
Hermione quickly made her way to the dungeons, her hair flowing behind her as she ran. At the moment, her thoughts were laden with confused emotions and she felt a tightening in her throat at the thought of Severus leaving Hogwarts without her. She uttered the password to his chambers with a hoarse croak and entered to find the room darkened, except for the soft orange glow of the fire. Severus had his back to her and was leaning heavily against the fireplace, his hands clutching the mantle as his head rested in weary repose.  
  
Hardening herself against what was to come, Hermione drew herself up and plastered a determined look on her face. She wasn't going to cry and she certainly wasn't going to give in to a useless wave of hysteria. "He's alive," she told herself. "Things could be so much worse." Before she could speak, he turned to her, and the look in his eyes would haunt her for months to come. "They look the way his kisses feel," she thought, "All soft and hard at the same time." They stared at each other for a long moment before he finally broke the silence.  
  
"You can't come with me, so don't even ask," he said quietly. "I have to do this alone."  
  
"I know," she answered. "I've come to say goodbye."  
  
"So say it, then," he said harshly. He closed his eyes.  
  
"Severus, look at me," she said. Walking over to him, she touched his arm. The only sign he gave that he'd heard her at all was a slight tremble. He kept his face turned away from her.  
  
"Look at me," she said again, and he opened his eyes. Hermione was momentarily stunned by the anguish they held, and then they abruptly changed. "If you're looking for a bathetic display, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed," he growled.  
  
She couldn't help the smile that twitched at her lips. "Certainly not! I was expecting something along the lines of 'snarky'. Thank you for being so predictable, it's very comforting."  
  
He gave her a hard look before his features relaxed. "I should be angry at your flippancy, but I find I'm too tired to muster up the emotion," he sighed ruefully. "I'm losing my touch."  
  
"Never that, Severus." She reached for his hand. "Come sit with me," she said as she led him to his couch.  
  
Severus sank into the cushions, expecting her to settle in next to him. Instead, she snuggled into his lap. He stiffened in surprise, but forgot his objection as she nuzzled her face against his neck and brought her arms around his waist. His hands instinctively made their way to her hair and his fingers plucked at her curls. "Why fight it?" he thought. They sat, wrapped up in each other for several minutes, neither of them willing to break the companionable silence.  
  
Hermione felt herself relax and closed her eyes to memorize his feel. "This is going to have to get me through many a lonely night," she thought. When he finally shifted his weight, her arms tightened around him and she gave out a soft noise of protest. He spoke softly in her ear.  
  
"We don't have much time, Hermione. Albus will wait just until breakfast is over to announce my 'death'. I must make my way to his chambers before then."  
  
"Do you know where you're going?"  
  
"Yes, in a sense. I can't say anything more, except to tell you that access to me will be limited. I've gathered everything I need and I'll be leaving within the half hour," He paused and turned to look at her. "I don't know when I'll see you again," he whispered.  
  
Hermione made a strangled sound in her throat and with a small cry, she began planting kisses along his cheek, his jaw and his neck. Severus brought his hand to her face as he hungrily pressed his lips against hers. He felt himself drowning in the velvet feel of her skin and when she let out a cry of pleasure, he felt its vibration reach down to rest in his groin. Using her tongue to gently trace the outline of his lips, Hermione paused to nibble on his lower lip and was rewarded with a delighted moan from Severus. He arched himself closer to her.  
  
Breaking their kiss, Hermione looked up at him and whispered, "I have to feel you . . . I have to feel your skin against me, before you go. Please."  
  
Wordlessly nodding, Severus began to unbutton his shirt with shaky hands as Hermione leaned back and struggled out of her robes. Before long, she was unclothed from the waist up and Severus fought a tide of breathlessness as he took in the sight of her full breasts.  
  
"Beautiful," he breathed, as he reached to touch her. Hermione gasped at the feel of his warm hands on her skin. Clutching at his shirt, she pulled it off his shoulders and he paused in his ministrations to help her. Soon they were kissing again, lips touching lips, tongue touching tongue.   
  
"Nobody has ever made me feel this way," she thought. "Only him."  
  
Hands roaming freely, they explored each other and Hermione memorized the feel of his lean muscles under her hands. As his fingers lightly brushed her nipples, she murmured incoherently to him, her voice urging him on. She returned his touch, running her fingers through the soft, sparse hair on his chest, as he lowered his lips to her neck and shoulder. He nipped at her sensitive skin and she let out a quiet groan as her hand ran across his lower arm.  
  
Suddenly she stiffened.   
  
In her passion, she had been running her fingertips over his forearm and had been surprised to feel a ridge of scar tissue in that sea of soft skin. She'd found his Dark Mark. She felt an unbearable coldness and before she could stop it, a feeling of desolation and self-loathing filled her and she broke away from him with a cry. She heard anguished screaming in her head before she could completely break free.  
  
Breathing heavily, Severus regarded the look on her face and instantly knew what had happened. Tearing himself away from her, he stood up and hastily began to put on his shirt. He would not look at her.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I should have known. You're very sensitive to Dark Magic." He finally looked at her, his face an inscrutable mask. "This was a mistake."  
  
"No," whimpered Hermione. "It was not a mistake. I just wasn't prepared, that's all. I don't know why, I've known for years that you carried the Dark Mark. Please don't misunderstand." She began to pull on her shirt and robe.  
  
"Hermione," he said gently. "Don't you see? I don't know what it is about you, but all rational thought seems to elude me when I'm with you. This is merely a reality check. We have incredible obstacles to overcome before we can be together. I don't even know if it's possible. You've just had a taste of my not-so-recent past . . . it's unspeakable. Perhaps it's best that I'm leaving now. Distance is just the thing we need."  
  
"No!" Hermione shouted. "If anything, we need to stay together, to work this out!"  
  
"Of course you'd say that," he sneered. "Stay and fight the good fight, is it? How utterly, boringly Gryffindor!" He couldn't help but throw the insult at her. "I don't think there's anything to work out right now, so please, don't make things any harder. You must forget about all this and concentrate on the potion. It's the most important thing." He grabbed his robes and walked towards his bedroom door.  
  
"Severus, I don't want to leave things like this. Please just tell me that you'll give us a chance when this is all over. I don't want us parting under these circumstances." Hermione fought the tears that threatened to spill.  
  
"I can't promise you anything. I don't know how I feel anymore and I hate it." He looked at her fiercely. "You are the best and the worst thing that's ever happened to me," he said, before turning his back on her. "I have to go, we're running out of time. Albus will keep me informed of your progress." His voice was hard.  
  
Hermione walked to the outer door.  
  
"I'm letting this go right now, because I have no choice. I'll work hard on the potion and I'll dream of the day that Voldemort is dead, so we can finally be together." She angrily waved off his sarcastic voice of protest, sensing the derisiveness of his tone. "Sod off, Severus!" she shouted at him. She opened the door and turned, pausing to look at him. The shine of tears in her eyes tranformed her face until she didn't even look real to him.  
  
"If you know nothing else, know this: I love you," she said tenderly. "Nothing will ever change that."  
  
As she made a hasty exit, Severus felt the stun of her words hit him in the heart.  
  
*********************************************  
  
Harry looked up at the impersonal, brown-bricked building that housed the staff of "The Daily Prophet". Pausing to gather his courage, he took in a deep breath before proceeding to the main entrance. Ginny Weasley had been on staff here for the past two years, working her way up as an editor in the "Entertainment" section of the newspaper. After Draco's announcement earlier that day, he knew that he had to confront her . . . not only about the night they'd spent together, but about Voldemort's unnatural interest in her. He wondered how she was going to react.  
  
Despite Ginny's obvious love for him, Harry had never been fully able to understand her, as there'd been a part of herself that she'd always kept hidden, especially from her family. Even now, he couldn't fathom the forces that had driven her to spill her heart out to Tom Riddle during her first year at Hogwarts. Although surrounded by loving family, she'd been pushed by loneliness to confide in a boy who'd long since transformed himself into the ugly epitome of evil. Her reward had been to become an unwilling almost-sacrifice to the Basilisk, used as bait to lure The-Boy-Who-Lived. It was as if the event had defined her life.  
  
They never spoke of it.  
  
As he made his way to her office, Harry mentally practiced the things he was going to say to her. Pushing the doors open, he nodded a greeting to the wizards and witches who were roaming the halls, some of them rushing to meet deadlines, others wearing the harried looks of those who'd just been assigned an impossible story. He couldn't help noticing the covetous looks given to him by some of the witches he passed. He was used to girls fawning over him, but because of his consuming involvement in the war, he'd never learned to gracefully accept their admiration. He usually just ignored their glances, not realizing that this aloof response only made them want him even more.  
  
Steeling himself, he pushed his way through Ginny's office door, instantly scanning the room for her. He could hear her voice, seemingly coming from underneath her desk, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. Ginny's head popped up, red-faced and frowning, as she muttered, "I know it's in here somewhere." She glanced up at him and froze, caught in return surprise.  
  
Her strawberry blond hair stood out in messy display and her light brown eyes stared at him, stilled in a moment of vulnerability. The colour in her face drained, leaving two pink spots on her otherwise pale cheeks. Harry sucked in a breath, afraid of disturbing such an honest moment between them. Everything fell away . . . the past, the war, their personal history, and they were left only in the present.   
  
Stripped of all pretense, the room narrowed to just the two of them.  
  
Ginny immediately broke the spell. "What do you want?" she said harshly. She bustled over to her desk, in an apparent effort to hide behind it.  
  
"Ginny, please," he began, then stopped himself. Why must all their conversations begin with a plead? All their old interactions simultaneously played in his head and he mentally cursed his ineptitude.  
  
He cleared his throat. "Let me start again," he said.  
  
She just stared at him, and gave him an imperceptible nod.  
  
"There is so much I want to say, I don't even know where to begin. I suppose I should start with an apology, but knowing you, you don't care to hear it." He smiled ruefully at her. "In any case, I'm sorry. We always seem to end up in bed when I'm feeling bad about myself." His voice dropped to a whisper. "You don't know how sorry I am about that."  
  
"I do," she said. "But don't trouble yourself over it, I knew what I was getting into that night. I've always known what I'm getting into. Well, except once . . . " her voice trailed off.  
  
He looked at her anxiously. "And that's part of the reason I'm here. I want to talk about him. About what happened in your first year."  
  
"What's there to say? You were there. No, strike that . . . you weren't there until the very end. Before that, there was Tom." She raised her chin defiantly. "You may not believe this, but I've learned to deal with what happened. I've examined my heart and despite evidence to the contrary, I know what drove me. I know all about regrets, Harry. But why bring it up now? After all these years?"  
  
"Because it's haunted what's between us for years. Because it's coming full circle, Ginny," he said with an aura of mystery. "Voldemort believes he still has unfinished business with you. We've been told that he plans on conquering the wizarding world, and ruling it with you at his side."  
  
To his utter suprise, Ginny began to laugh. That was certainly not the response he expected. It occurred to him, not for the first time, that he really didn't know her at all.  
  
Ginny saw the look of distress on his face and instantly regretted her outburst. "Harry," she said gently, "I always knew it would come to this. Even as I lay dying on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, he said things to me. He told me that he had plans for me, that despite how things looked, he would never let me die. For years I was ashamed of the way he looked at me. I was only eleven after all. But eventually, I understood. I know what it's like to want something you can't have. I pity him. I pity us both, really."  
  
Harry was disturbed by her quiet acceptance. "Don't feel sorry for him, Ginny," he snarled. "He's a user and a manipulator! He'll tell you anything to get you to do what he wants, he's a master at it."  
  
"Don't think I don't know that," she countered. She came out from behind her desk. "So is this what you came for? To apologize and tell me Voldemort wants me with him when he's the Wizard King?"  
  
"No," he said in a low voice. Here came the hard part. "I want you to know that I won't let him near you. Despite what you may think, I do care about you, very deeply. I won't let anything happen to you."  
  
Rolling her eyes, she muttered, "Typical." She let out a deep sigh and said, "Isn't it just like you to think you have such control over the fates? You must be loving this . . . here's your chance to be the hero again!" She shook her head. "I don't want your help," she said quietly. "I appreciate what you've said, and I know you're sincere, but I really have to do this on my own."  
  
Harry got angry. "Do what on your own? Fight Voldemort? Save yourself? Even Dumbledore can't do that without help from his friends. Please, if not me, then perhaps Ron or Charlie can help you . . . just don't turn people away because you're angry at me!" He was shaking.  
  
Ginny gave him a penetrating look, weighing what he'd told her. She sighed in defeat. "All right, we can talk to Charlie and Ron. Perhaps they can come up with a feasible plan. But not one involving you," she added. "I have to put some distance between us, Harry, if I'm ever going to have a shot at a normal life. I think that's what I want and I know I can't have it with you. You'll always be a part of my family, but whatever we've had in the past, it ends here." She looked at him resolutely.  
  
She never looked more beautiful to him and Harry was almost felled at the thought of losing her. "Gods! Why now?" he wondered in desperation. She noticed his look of devastation.  
  
"It's right that it ends now," she said with certainty. "I feel as if a huge weight has been lifted."  
  
"Is that what I've been? A weight?"  
  
"Yes, but it doesn't matter anymore." She felt compelled to comfort him. "I'll be fine, Harry. Thank you for having the courage to come to me. I wasn't sure when I saw you, but it was the best thing you could have done. My family will take care of me and you can take care of Voldemort." She looked a little uncertain for a moment. "Maybe some day, we . . . I don't know."  
  
"Maybe some day we can make our way back to each other," he finished for her.  
  
"Maybe," she said doubtfully. Turning her back to him to shuffle papers, she said, "I have work to do. You know your way out." She turned back to him and repeated, "I'll be fine."  
  
There was so much more he wanted to say to her, but he realized that this was not the time. "Goodbye then, Ginny," he said. He walked quickly to the door, then turned to her. "I'll stay away from you, but I'll be talking to Ron about all this. There are things he needs to know if he's going to have a hand in protecting you." With one long, last look at her, he was gone.  
  
Only after the door closed, did Ginny allow the tears to fall.  
  
"Goodbye, Harry Potter," she whispered.  
  
***********************************************   
  
Severus Snape took in his surroundings and immediately felt a cocoon of loneliness envelope him like a long, lost friend. He shivered, and out of habit, turned to share his observations with Hermione, but of course, she wasn't there. He mentally cursed his lapse.  
  
There was no one to share with, here.  
  
Albus had come up with the idea of putting him into what could only be described as an "alternate universe", something akin to a pensieve. However, unlike a pensieve, one's whole body was immersed in this world, as if one had never otherwise existed. It was a place that Albus had gone to during the earlier war against Grindelwald, when things had gone badly and he'd needed a place to hide for a while. He'd taken a book off one of his shelves and had opened it for Severus, revealing a cloudy portal that only had to be touched in order for one to be transported. The book served to hide the portal . . . he was not to be trapped in a book, Albus had assured him.  
  
He told Severus that this world was a kind of a lucid dream, one where he could surround himself with all the familiar memories of his childhood. Severus found himself in a replication of the Snape family hunting lodge. He hadn't been there since before he'd entered Hogwarts, yet it remained solid in his memory. He looked around and smiled. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad, after all. He'd come here as a boy, to hide from his perpetually angry father, and to dream of things that would never come to pass.  
  
Nothing here was real, except if he willed it to be. He knew that he'd only have to touch an object to solidify it and if he'd wanted to, he could bring anything here back with him to the "real" world. That was the key. He could work on the potion and when it was ready he could bring it back with him, when the time came to confront Voldemort.  
  
He was still feeling somewhat weak and decided that work would have to wait. Because time didn't exist in this place, he'd brought a pocket watch, to keep track of day and night. Without it, he would lose the rhythm of time, something that would not be good for his mental and physical health. While it was still technically "morning", he felt very tired and allowed himself the indulgence of resting before he proceeded with his work. Opening one of the many doors leading from the main hallway, he saw that indeed, a fully stocked potions lab was a part of this world. That was something new . . . a potions lab had not existed in the real Snape hunting lodge. Albus had thought of everything.  
  
There would be time enough for work, later.  
  
Making his way to the kitchen, he brewed himself some tea and looked in the cupboard for his favorite mug. Finding the chipped black cup, he smiled with relief. It was nice to know that some things never changed. Pouring himself a cup of tea, he walked to the dining room and sat alone, wrapped in his thoughts.  
  
He hadn't been lying when he'd told Hermione that she was the best and the worst thing that had ever happened to him. He'd been wholly unprepared for her response. In typical Hermione-fashion, she'd set his world on its ear and then had quickly disappeared, as if none of it had been real.   
  
She loved him. The thought filled him with both terror and elation.  
  
He shook his head and stood up, walking over to the entrance of the lodge. His mother had hung a large mirror there, in order to do last minute adjustments to her toilette before guests would arrive to stay at the hunting lodge. His father had entertained many friends, and it was common for large gatherings to occur there over the autumn and winter months. Taking a deep breath, he regarded his reflection.  
  
Why did she love him? He could scarcely believe it. He was not a handsome man, not by any stretch of the imagination, or so he'd always thought. His face was too thin, his skin too pale and his features were dominated by a large, prominent nose. He smiled. "I suppose I have nice eyes," he thought, feeling somewhat embarrassed at this admission. It was obvious that Hermione saw something in him that not even he could see. He ran a hand through his lank, blue-black hair.   
  
He really didn't know how he felt about her declaration, although he understood why she'd chosen that moment to tell him. They'd reached a crossroads in their relationship and she'd firmly staked her claim on him, knowing that it would throw his world in chaos. "Trust her not to fight fair," he thought. While he'd always accused her of being a typical Gryffindor, it had been a completely Slytherin move on her part. He couldn't help but admire her for it.  
  
Moving away from the mirror, he continued with his thoughts as he made his way to a room that held the couches and fireplace. Lighting it with a thought, he settled in for what promised to be a lonely vigil. He allowed himself to remember her, the feel of her skin against his, her soft mouth opening to him as they'd kissed like it was the last time they'd ever be together.  
  
For all he knew, it would indeed be the last time they'd ever be together.  
  
He was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of despair. Nothing he'd ever wanted had ever come to pass. He'd carefully hidden his heart for so many years, not allowing himself to want the things that most men wanted . . . a home, children, and most of all, the love of a beautiful woman. Those things had always been beyond his reach and for all of his life he'd accepted this meekly, knowing that to dream of such things would only destroy what little sanity he possessed. In a few short months, he'd glimpsed the things he'd always wanted, and had reveled in the idea that they could be his for the taking.  
  
And it was all because of Hermione.  
  
He could love her, he knew, if only things were different. Even now, he knew that this feeling in his heart was as close to love as he'd ever felt. He just didn't know what to do about it.  
  
For the first time since his childhood, he wept. He wept for all the things he wanted, but could never have.  
  
TBC  
  
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Author's Note: Waaaah! I hate goodbyes . . . I guess you could say that this is the "angst" in the story. I hope you enjoy it!  
  
Special thanks to Elizabeth, my beta-baby. She knows things, LOL.  
  
Also, for those who wonder: Bathetic IS a word . . . it means "mushy effusiveness." Severus would never stand for that.  
  
So, what do you all think? Let me know, please! 


	16. Chapter 15: Empty

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


  
The usual disclaimers apply. 

**********************************  
Everything's so blurry  
and everyone's so fake  
everybody's empty and  
everything is so messed up  
pre-occupied without you  
I cannot live at all  
my whole world surrounds you  
I stumble and I crawl  
and you could be my someone  
you could be my scene  
you know that I'll protect you  
from all of the obscene  
I wonder what you're doing  
imagine where you are  
there's oceans in between us  
but that's not very far 

~From the song "Blurry" by Puddle of Mudd 

************************************* 

Chapter 15: Empty 

It came as no surprise to anyone that Hermione threw herself into her work with an intense, if not breakneck abandon. It completely and utterly consumed her to the point that Draco was beginning to pout and Albus was giving her increasingly worried looks. "If I don't slow down soon," she thought, "I'm facing either being snogged senseless by one or getting fatherly advice from the other." 

Neither prospect held much appeal. 

A treacherous part of her mind whispered. "Draco is a good kisser, though." She chuckled softly to herself. "It must be the lack of sleep, I'm going off my rocker." 

Pushing herself away from her desk, she allowed herself a moment to think about Severus. It had been almost six weeks since they'd parted. Not a day went by, not an hour, when she didn't pause from her work to think about him . . . to wonder what he was doing, how he was feeling. But not too often, and not for very long. She'd think about him briefly, then she'd plunge back into her work, determined to finish as quickly as possible. She longed to lose herself in the thought of him, to immerse herself in her memories, but she had to stay focused. Years of disciplined thinking had taught her that such indulgences could wait. But it was hard not to feel empty. 

"Keep working, Hermione," she told herself. "The big payoff is coming." 

There were times, however, where no matter how hard she tried to fight it, the thought of him brought an unbearable sadness to her heart. He was all alone . . . she could scarcely endure the thought. It was in those moments that she felt her emotional control slipping and it was only with great effort that she pushed him from her mind. "He's been alone all his life," she thought. "He can handle it a little while longer." The only time she allowed herself to deeply contemplate him was late at night, as the fire was dying and the shadows faded on the walls of her bedroom. When she was lying in her bed, drifting off to sleep, she imagined him, that she was with him, soothing his solitude. She'd imagine his lips on her neck and his scent on her skin. She'd run her hands through his soft hair, whispering words of love. At those times, late at night, she could sense him in her bones and her blood and he seemed to permeate her very molecules. 

She had wild, sexual dreams about him. 

At others times she could think about him rationally and it was then that she saw the humour in her situation. After all, there had been many years she'd wanted to forget Severus Snape even existed, and here she was, all lovesick and longing for him. "Blegh," she thought. "I'm in love with my greasy git former teacher. How appalling." She had to be honest with herself, though. From the moment he'd touched her cheek at Poppy Pomfrey's funeral, she'd never thought of him the same way again. It was as simple as that. 

A soft knock vibrated from her front door and Hermione opened it, surprised to see Draco standing there with an expectant look on his face. 

"Yes? Do we have a 'date' or something?" She struggled to remember. 

He pushed his way in. "Hullo, darling. You look terrible, by the way. I was going to see if you wanted to take a stroll, but I don't know if I want to be seen with you in public." His insolent silver eyes raked her over. "Don't you own a hairbrush?" 

Her hand instantly shot up to her hair before she frowned and shook her head. "I don't know why I let you bait me," she sighed. He grinned at her, then his face turned sober. 

"Seriously, Hermione. I'm dead worried about you, love. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for giving it all to the Light, but you need to get out, to get some sunshine. You've no colour to your cheeks. Get your cloak, I won't take no for an answer." 

"You're probably right. I've been working for six hours without a break and I need to stretch. Maybe we can get something to eat?" 

Draco looked relieved. "I'm chuffed to hear it," he grinned, then he hesitated. "We can talk about him, if you want. I know you miss him." 

She looked at Draco with affection. "You know, you're really not so bad," she said, as she smiled up at him. 

"You have no idea," he thought sadly. 

********************************************** 

The crisp January air was thankfully lit by a bright, blinding sunshine and Hermione felt her spirits lift as she and Draco strolled through Hogsmeade, hand in hand. For once, he neglected to make a big show of their 'relationship' and instead, he spoke to her in quiet, intimate tones. Finding a bench perched on a little hill off the path, they sat in silence, enjoying the playful spectacle of the squirrels chasing each other around the trees. 

Draco put his arm around her and leaning close, he whispered, "I know this has been hard on you, not spending Christmas or New Year's Eve with Uncle Severus." 

Hermione gave him an appraising look. "I thought I told you there's nothing between us. Don't you believe me?" 

Draco rolled his eyes. "No," he said bluntly. "Not even a little bit. I've seen you two together, remember?" 

She nodded. "I miss him more than I thought possible," she said sadly. "I get updates from Albus and I've read his notes, but it's not the same as working with him. We're getting close to completing the potion, but I've been waiting for Voldemort to ask for me. Our plan won't work unless Voldemort thinks I've turned to the Dark Side." 

Draco felt his gut tighten. Ever since he'd told Voldemort about the Soul Shattering Potion, the Dark Lord had acted as if his interest in Hermione was waning. Draco had been developing his own plan, something he hoped was going to save them all, but it wasn't going to work unless Voldemort confided in him and told him how he was going to deal with the Potion. Without that information, Draco would be unable to formulate a response. The good news was that he'd been able to convince Voldemort and his father that Uncle Severus had been murdered by Taryn Butler. But he was still no closer to finding out what the Dark Lord had planned. He was scared to death that he'd ruined everything. 

Somewhere along the way, The Order of the Phoenix had come to mean more to him than he'd ever thought possible. 

"Draco? Is something wrong? You look distressed." 

He hung his head. "I'm worried about the plan, Hermione. Voldemort is not confiding in me like he used to. If I don't get some useful information soon, I don't know how we're going to pull this off." He turned to her and she was surprised to see the anxiety in his eyes. 

She rubbed his hand soothingly. "Everything will work out, I can feel it. I suppose we're just going to have to be patient." 

For a brief moment, Draco contemplated telling her everything. It would be such a relief to confide in someone he trusted. However, his naturally secretive nature made it such that he could not tell anybody the truth, at least not until he knew more about Voldemort's plan for Hermione. The less said, the safer they all were, for now. 

Instead, he changed the subject. 

"So tell me about you and Uncle Severus. I'll bet he's a wild man in bed . . . does he make a lot of noise?" Hermione gave him an outraged look. "You know, you can always spot the wild ones," he added. "They're usually so bloody controlled in their daily lives, but under the sheets-- Ow, ow!" 

Hermione had punched him in the arm. 

Draco laughed softly. "Really, Hermione, I'm intrigued," he said. "I've never known Severus to care about anyone or anything. He had to be that way in order to be a successful spy. Out of everyone in my family, he was the coldest, meanest bastard of them all, and that's saying something." 

She sighed. "I can well believe it. I hated him for years, after all. He was very hard on us Gryffindors during school. It wasn't until I came back to Hogwarts that I really got to know him. I think I understand why he is the way he is. He's had such a terrible life, I can only imagine the things he's had to endure." She remembered the feelings she got when she touched his Dark Mark and shivered. 

Draco nodded. "That's very perceptive of you. No wonder he cares about you so much. Nobody has every taken the time to understand him. It wasn't until I became a Death Eater that I knew how hard things were for him. I remember . . . " He abruptly stopped. 

"What? What do you remember?" 

"It's not a pleasant story, Hermione. But maybe if I tell you, you'll understand why I respect him so much. It's really because of him that I've been able to do the whole Death Eater thing." He paused to rub his face with both hands and when he finally looked at her, she was surprised to see a shadow of sadness in his eyes. 

"When I was fourteen I witnessed something really terrible, something that changed my whole way of thinking," he began. "You know how I was raised. I was taught to believe that Malfoys were superior to anybody walking on this Earth. Power was everything, cruelty was to be applauded and nothing was to stand in the way of getting what you wanted. That's why we joined Voldemort in the first place." 

Hermione looked at him with pity. "What about love? Was there no room for love in your world?" 

"Love," said Draco harshly. "I don't think so. Love was for the weak. Love was to be scorned. To this day, I don't think I know anything about love, although I'm learning," he added. "But at one time, I fancied myself in love." 

Fascinated, Hermione squeezed his hand, urging him to continue. 

"In the summer after our fourth year, I got to know a girl, a shy little thing, really. Her father and Lucius were 'business partners', which really meant that they were both involved with Voldemort. She had absolutely no idea." Hermione noticed his hands were shaking. "Her name was Yvette and she went to Beauxbatons." 

Breaking himself away from her, he stood suddenly. 

"I don't know if I can do this," he rasped. He clenched his fists and almost looked as if he was going to cry. In all the years she'd known him, she'd never seen him look more vulnerable and sad. 

"What happened, Draco?" Hermione asked gently. "You can tell me, I won't tell a soul." She tugged on his sleeve, urging him to sit back down. 

Draco looked at her, as if he were gauging the truth in her words. "Nobody can know about this. If anybody finds out, I'm dead." Hermione nodded. 

Sitting back down, Draco continued with his story. "Yvette and I were friends at first. I was pretty lonely. In those days both my mum and I were getting the shit knocked out of us on a regular basis." 

Hermione looked surprised. "I had no idea," she said. 

"Well of course you didn't, you stupid git," he said scornfully and his face scrunched up in disdain. For a moment, Hermione was reminded of the boy she despised in school. Before she could take offense, his face immediately softened. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be taking it out on you. Nobody knew what my father was doing to us. I was beginning to rebel and Lucius was not taking it very well. He thought he could 'beat some sense' into me. I guess it didn't take," he said proudly. 

"Good for you," Hermione encouraged him. "So what happened to the girl?" 

Draco's face darkened. "Like I said, we became friends at first. I'd never really had any friends, certainly not any real ones. I know that comes as no surprise to you," he said sardonically. Hermione resisted the urge to snort. She had to be very careful with her reactions, she knew. 

"She used to come and stay at our house, while our fathers conducted their 'business'," Draco continued. "She was very beautiful . . . long blond hair, great big blue eyes. I think she was probably too gentle for the life that had been chosen for her. I knew that her father was trying to forge an alliance with us and Lucius encouraged the relationship between us. For once, I was happy with his direction in my life. Yvette was smart and funny and I found myself really falling for her. To my utter surprise, she felt the same way about me. We spent many hours together that summer. Then came that terrible night." 

Draco stood up again and began to pace in front of the bench. Hermione kept herself very still, mesmerized by his story. 

"We were young and we thought we were in love. She was staying in a bedroom down the hall from me and we planned on meeting that night. I thought I was finally going to lose my virginity." He grinned briefly. "A boy's dream come true, right? Well, instead --" He paused, unable to continue. Hermione suddenly stood up and wrapping her arms around him, she gave him a tight hug. "You can do this," she whispered. "You have to tell someone." 

Turning his head to her ear, he whispered, "Instead, my father kidnapped her and took her to a Dark Revel that was occurring at our house that night. Apparently her father double-crossed Lucius in a business deal and Father thought he'd teach the man a lesson he'd never forget. When I couldn't find her, I starting looking for her around the house. Like all old, pureblood families, we had dungeons under the Manor. I made my way there and saw the Death Eaters gathered there. Everyone had their backs to me, so I found a spot in a dark corner and hid behind a chair. Yvette was laid out on a table before the Dark Lord and she was bound and naked. I barely recognized her. She was bleeding heavily from wounds to her head and chest and she was letting out these pitiful wails." 

Draco suddenly pulled away from Hermione, turning his back on her. "I can't . . . I just can't," he whispered in anguish. 

Hermione walked up behind him and put her arms around his waist. Laying her head against his back she said, "Yes, you can. You're strong, like your uncle. You can do this." 

Draco took a deep, shuddering breath. "They took turns raping her while her father watched. Some of them put knives in a fire before using them to stab her. Not everyone participated, but when it came to be Uncle Severus' turn, he just pointed his wand at her and cast the Killing Curse. It was the most merciful thing I've ever witnessed. Isn't that ironic?" 

Hermione fought the bile that rose in her throat. "Oh Draco! How horrible for you both! That poor, poor girl!" 

He turned to her and Hermione was sure that she'd never forget the look on his face. 

"I ran away, Hermione. Uncle Severus told me later that he saw me when I came in, so after the revel, he went looking for me. He found me in the gardens, puking my guts out. I was crazed, telling him I was going to kill them all for what they'd done to her. His reaction surprised me." 

"What did he say?" 

"He said, 'In due time, my boy. In due time.' It was then that I realized that he was really a spy. When I looked at him, I could see that his face was bruised and swollen and that his nose had been broken. He was even missing a few of his front teeth. Apparently Voldemort didn't like his spoiling their fun." Draco ran a restless hand through his hair. 

"That was the beginning of the end for me," he said. "Later, my father told me that he'd had a falling out with her father and that Yvette had left with him that night. I was never to speak of her again. When I went back to Hogwarts my fifth year, I spent a lot of time with Uncle Severus. He didn't tell me he was a spy at first, it took him a while to trust me, but eventually, we both planned my future. I was to remain the arrogant bastard and become a Death Eater, just like dear old Dad. I've had to empty my soul at times, but I've been planning my betrayal of Voldemort ever since . . . we both have. Harry Potter may get all the glory, but Uncle Severus is my hero." 

Hermione was stunned. 

"That is one of the most incredible stories I've ever heard," she said quietly. She hesitated. "It explains a lot and I know it was very difficult for you to tell me this. I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am." 

Draco snorted. "Don't feel sorry for me, Hermione. I hate that shit." He managed a lopsided grin. 

Knowing what he was doing, Hermione played along. "You know, when a girl feels sorry for a guy, he's that much closer to getting laid." 

Draco looked delighted. "You think so?" he asked eagerly. "I'll have to remember that. So what are you saying? Are you trying to seduce me? Because if you are . . . I'm game!" He pulled her close to him. She laughed. 

"Severus would kill us both, you git." 

"I know, but it might be worth it." 

She shook her head at him. "Shut up and walk with me . . . I'm hungry," she said, in a commanding tone. As they made their way back to town, Hermione spoke suddenly. "Draco, in case you still think you've never had any real friends, I can assure you that you have one in me. I'll never tell anyone what you've told me, not even Harry." 

Speechless, Draco nodded. 

Arm in arm, they walked together in silence. 

*********************************************** 

Albus Dumbledore was in a good mood, which wasn't saying much. From the time he'd been a child, he'd been blessed with a sunny disposition which irritated almost everyone he knew. Even during the darkest hours of war, he managed to summon a bit of optimism, which kept him sane while madness was going on all around him. He whistled while he stirred a bit of honey in his tea. 

He just couldn't help himself. 

He wondered about Hermione and her reaction to her separation from Severus. Albus knew all the signs and he was sure about one thing. Hermione Granger was madly in love. 

And Severus wasn't far behind her. 

Albus chuckled. This was a most surprising turn of events. He'd known Severus since he was a young boy at Hogwarts and he'd despaired that anyone or anything could penetrate his empty heart. There had been many times that Albus thought Severus was going to break from the strain, but the Potions Master proved to be stronger than anybody realised. Albus would summon him up to his chambers and they'd quietly share a drink together while Severus filled him in on the latest news of the Death Eaters. Somehow, Albus would manage to encourage him to go on and once or twice he even suggested that Severus quit the spy business altogether. He feared that he'd never make it out alive. 

Severus had been adamant. "War is a dirty business, Albus, you know that," he'd once said. "I have nothing in my life that's worth having, so it might as well be me doing it." Albus felt an unspeakable sadness for the man. 

"Maybe Hermione will change his life," he thought. "She's already changed him in the few short months she's been here. If anybody deserves to be loved and respected, it's Severus Snape." 

Walking over to his bookshelf, he plucked the book that held the portal to Severus' new world. Opening it, he quietly called out to him. 

"Severus? Are you awake?" 

The Potions Master's response was immediate. "I'm here, you old coot! Can't a person get any peace around here?" Severus couldn't hide the irritation in his voice. Albus sighed in relief. Severus was barking at him, which was a good sign. 

"I'm sorry to contact you at this late hour. I just wanted a quick update. How's your progress?" 

"I've completed a rudimentary version of the potion and I'm beginning animal experiments. It's obviously going to have to be refined. The dosages of the ingredients need to be adjusted, but we're getting very close to completing it." He paused. 

"How is she?" 

"She's doing all right, Severus. She's working entirely too hard and I worry that she's not getting enough sleep. I can't get her to slow down, which comes as no surprise. She's very anxious to complete the potion so that we can confront Voldemort. It's the only thing that's keeping her going. That and you." 

"Don't be a sentimental old fool, Albus," Severus snapped. "I'm sure she's fine." 

Albus was in no mood to placate him. "She's not fine! She misses you terribly. Denying that isn't going to make things any easier. The truth is always best," he added. 

There was a few seconds of silence before Severus softly retorted. "Tell her . . . tell her that I miss her and that it's almost over. My seclusion won't last much longer." 

"I'm sure she'll be happy to hear that. Good night Severus, I'll talk to you tomorrow." He closed the book and put it on his desk. 

Sipping his tea, Albus peered at a corner in the room. There was no hiding the shimmer of an invisibility cloak, he'd had years of practice at spotting them while Harry Potter had been a student. Amused, he knew exactly who was hiding in his office. 

"If you wanted to meet with your Uncle Severus, all you needed to do was ask," he said to himself. Years of being a spy had taught Draco to do things with stealth, rather than taking the direct approach. Albus fought the grin that threatened to erupt and making a big show of going to bed, he allowed Draco to put his plan in motion. 

It appeared that Draco was going to make a late night visit to his uncle. 

TBC 

************************************************** 

Author's note: I finished this late and I just couldn't wait for a beta-read to post it. Please excuse any glaring mistakes, OK? 

Thanks to all my reviewers. I live for them. 

  


  


  



	17. Chapter 16: Longing

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


This story is rated R for language and sexual situations. This chapter applies in particular, so you've been warned. 

************************************* 

Come to me in my dreams, and then  
By day I shall be well again.  
For then the night will more than pay  
The hopeless longing of the day. 

Or, as thou never cam'st in sooth,  
Come now, and let me dream it truth.  
And part my hair, and kiss my brow,  
And say My love! why sufferest thou? 

~From the poem "Longing" by Matthew Arnold 

*************************************** 

  
Chapter 16: Longing 

  
It hadn't been that long since Severus Snape had been caught off guard. In fact, it had only been six weeks, and the memory of it made his wand-hand itchier than a heat rash. The moment Draco Malfoy appeared in the front entrance of the hunting lodge, he was confronted by a surge of magic that knocked him off his feet, his wand clattering to the floor. 

"Crikey, Severus!" he managed, as he crawled towards his wand. 

"Expelliarmus!" Severus bellowed and the wand flew to his outstretched hand. He glared at Draco. "What the fuck are you doing here, Malfoy?" 

"A simple 'hello' would have sufficed, Uncle." Draco lifted himself from the floor. "Don't tell me you aren't glad to see me." 

"I'm not." Severus turned his back on Draco and stalked out of the room. 

Draco grinned as he followed him. This was going to be fun. Looking at his surroundings for the first time, he distastefully noted the large Hungarian Horntail dragon head mounted on the wall over the fireplace. "Say, isn't that illegal?" he wondered. Apparently the Snapes were closet rule-breakers. Given his uncle's occupation as a spy, that came as no surprise, really. 

"Lovely decor!" he drawled. "You must give me the name of your interior designer." Noting the fierce scowl on the Potions Master's face, he hastily added, "Right. Erm, some other time perhaps?" 

"I asked you a question. What are you doing here?" 

"Is it so hard to believe that I just wanted to see how you're doing?" Draco asked in an unconvincing, injured tone. 

Severus let out a pained sigh. "Gods! I don't have time for this! In fact, I don't have to endure this at all. Where's my wand? Oh wait," he said sarcastically. "I don't need a wand to hex you to Antarctica. Abolescere--" 

"I've come to talk to you about Hermione Granger." 

Severus stopped in mid-hex. If anything, his scowl deepened even further. "I've already told you that I won't discuss her with you, ever." 

Draco knew which buttons to push. "Even if she's in danger? Even if she disregards her own safety for your sake? Don't you think you owe it to her to at least hear me out?" 

Severus faltered for a moment. "What are you talking about?" His arm was still outstretched towards Malfoy. 

"If you would just retract the index finger of your wand hand, maybe I'd tell you." Two could play this game, thought Draco, with an inward chuckle. Severus contemplated him for a moment, then nodded. 

"Sit," he commanded and Draco instantly obeyed, plopping himself down on the couch. "How the hell does Severus do that?" he thought wryly. Severus remained standing, his back to the fireplace, arms folded. 

"I'm waiting, Mr. Malfoy." 

Draco swallowed hard. "All right, so maybe she isn't exactly in danger . . . well, she is, but then, aren't we all? Well, maybe she's in worse danger than most because Voldemort wants to meet with her, I suppose --" He was babbling. He stopped abruptly, noting the look on his uncle's face. Remembering that the best defense was to keep one's opponent off his game, he added, "She's exhausted, Severus. She's not eating, she's not sleeping well, and she's working herself to death. To make matters worse, she thinks you don't want to be with her and it's making her miserable. We both know it's a lie . . . you love her." 

He held his breath and waited for the inevitable explosion. 

"Is that why you're here? To discuss my so-called love life with Hermione Granger?" Severus couldn't keep the rising anger from his voice. "I'm not a circus side-show set up for your amusement!" he thundered. "It's none of your damned business!" 

"But it IS my business!" Draco roared passionately. "Believe it or not, she's my friend and she's the only real one I've had since . . . since--" He stopped in mid-sentence, unwilling to say her name aloud. He shook his head sadly. "She's everything a man could ever want and you're just throwing it all away because of your stupid pride," he said quietly. At Snape's sound of protest, he waved him off in irritation. "I know all about it, Uncle, I wheedled it out of her over lunch today. She thinks you're rejecting her. I never thought I'd ever say this, but you are a complete barmcake!" 

He closed his eyes and braced himself yet again. 

To his surprise, Severus let out a rich, baritone laugh. Opening his eyes cautiously, Draco saw the glint of amusement on his uncle's face, before the Potions Master sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I must be thoroughly exhausted if I'm willing to put up with this shit from you." 

Draco grinned. "I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but you're dead wrong to turn her away. She loves you." 

Severus gave him an incredulous look. "And how would you know this? I have a hard time believing that she would tell you such a thing." 

"She doesn't have to tell me. I know it from the tone of her voice. I know it by the look on her face when she talks about you. She gets all soft and mushy." Draco gave a theatrical shudder. "It's a Gryffindor thing, you know that, Severus. They can't help but wear their emotions on their sleeves. Revolting, really." 

There was silence while Severus processed everything Draco had said. His eyebrow slowly arched up in comprehension. 

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you want her for yourself." Severus' voice was a velvet purr, but Draco wasn't deceived. He knew he'd hit a nerve. Time to move in for the kill. 

"Maybe I do. What does it matter to you? If you don't want her, I think I could make her forget all about you." 

Severus growled. "You wish, you bloody little wuss." 

"Why not? You're obviously willing to give her up, so what difference does it make if I move in on her?" Draco chose this moment to give a contented, cat-like stretch. "Just say the word, Uncle Severus and I'll take her off your hands." 

Severus began to pace. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing. You're painfully obvious." He stopped to give Draco a superior look. 

"Am I now? I'm just trying to gauge the competition." 

"No, you're trying to get me to admit I have feelings for her." 

Draco decided he'd had enough of the game. "For Merlin's sake! Is that so hard? You've faced down Death Eaters before . . . Voldemort, for that matter! She's just an ickle smidge of a witch! Why can't you just admit it? You love her!" 

Severus finally broke. 

"And what if I do?" he yelled. In an instant, his face reflected mortification at such a confession. Groaning, he resorted to pinching the bridge of his nose again. "Get out," he said quietly to Draco. "Get the fuck out." 

"Oh no . . . you're not going to tell me such an incredible thing, then shove me out of here like an errant little boy. I knew it," he added triumphantly. "So what are you going to do about it?" 

"Nothing." 

"That's it? Nothing? Well, I guess we're back to the 'barmcake' thing again. Honestly, Severus! Why are you so scared of her?" 

Severus shook his head in defeat. "It's not her I fear, it's myself. I'm fairly certain I'll just muck things up," he said in an uncharacteristic show of insecurity. "By the way," he added, "You're not nearly good enough for her. Neither of us is." 

"I think that's for Hermione to decide. And here's another thing I never thought I'd say to you: You're a lucky, lucky man. She would walk barefoot over broken glass for you. She's beautiful, courageous, smarter than that Muggle chap Einstein and for some incomprehensible reason, she loves you. And you're wrong about not being good enough for her. I'll only say this once, but you deserve every happiness that she can give you because of all the ugly things you've had to do in order to keep the wizarding world safe. Hermione Granger is your reward." 

Severus was taken aback. He had never, ever thought about it that way. For a moment, he believed the truth in Draco's words, but then his old self-loathing resurfaced. 

He could never be with her. 

"I'll only drag her down to the Darkness," Severus said sadly. 

Draco shook his head vehemently. "No, Uncle. She'll only take you up to the Light." 

Severus stared at him, stunned for a long moment as he considered Draco's words. He dropped his head in his hands to tiredly rub his face. When he spoke through his hands, his voice was muffled. 

"Do you really think so?" he asked. He couldn't keep the hopeful tone out of his voice, and given the usual hardness of the man, the vulnerability of it was almost heartbreaking. 

"Yes I do," Draco answered truthfully. "It's why I'm here. Think about what I've said, you've nothing to lose." Looking at his pocketwatch, he faked surprise. "Oh, my! Will you look at the time? I have to go . . . if I don't get enough sleep, I get these dreadful, dark circles under my eyes. I must get my beauty rest," he grinned. 

"You really are poncy." 

Draco smirked. "So I've been told." 

Handing Draco's wand back to him, Severus walked towards the entrance hall, where the portal remained open in his mother's mirror. "I'll see you out. By the way, how did you find me?" 

"I'm a spy, Uncle Severus . . . I have my ways. Don't worry, nobody else knows you're here . . . wherever here is. And I was kidding about the interior designer. I saw a Muggle magazine once where they showed this house in America that was owned by a bloke named Elvis. It was a monument to bad taste and it doesn't begin to hold a candle to this place." 

"Get out, Malfoy." 

"I'm going, I'm going." 

***************************************************** 

Severus didn't show it, but his visit with Draco had affected him more than he was willing to admit. Could the boy be right? Could Hermione Granger really be his reward? The thought was stupefying. 

Making his way to his bedroom, he quickly undressed, allowing the cool air to caress his body before making his way to the bathroom. Atrocious decor aside, the hunting lodge boasted beautiful bathrooms. Mother had deemed them necessary as the hunters would usually come back from the hunt smelling like a flock of rutting Hippogriffs. Large, luxurious bathrooms had been an absolute necessity. 

Turning the tap up as hot as it would go, Severus allowed the steam to roil around him and he smiled at the pleasant feeling on his skin. He'd always loved a good, hot shower and hydrotherapy was just the thing he needed to put his thoughts in order. He adjusted the temperature, pausing to listen to the soothing rhythm of the water hitting the marble tile before he gingerly stepped in. He knew that the students of Hogwarts thought that he never bathed, but nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, hours of standing over boiling cauldrons and breathing in botched potions in the classroom would reduce his hair to an oily mess, and his complexion would become noteworthy for its sallowness. Therefore, the first thing he always did when classes were over was to take a long, steaming shower. 

Not that any of those dunderheads ever noticed. 

Severus dipped his head under the showerhead and took pleasure in the spray hitting his face. He reached for a bar of sandalwood soap and began rubbing it over his chest. Tingling, his thoughts turned to Hermione once again. 

After that first lonely night spent in the hunting lodge, he'd tried to push Hermione from his mind, but once again, he had absolutely no control over his longing. Everyday something new would happen during his work and he'd think about how she'd react or what she'd say. When he'd begun with the animal experiments, his first thought had been that he was glad Hermione didn't have to do this kind of work, as she had such a sensitive heart. Killing animals in the name of magical science just didn't seem like something she'd be able to do easily. He had rejoiced at this small gift he could give her, then he'd immediately chastised himself for his sentimentality. It had become a pattern. He'd think about her, he'd long for her, then he'd chastise himself. Over and over again. 

He was sick of it. 

As he continued to rub the soap into his skin, he remembered the morning they'd parted. She was so beautiful, offering her body to him like she was giving a thirsty man a drink of water. He suddenly felt ashamed of his cowardice. She knew about his past and yet for some unfathomable reason, she still wanted to be with him. Amazing. He paused, recalling the silky texture of her breasts and the sounds of her soft moans. He could spend the rest of his life lost in her incredible body and he'd die an utterly happy man. 

Well, why not? Perhaps it was possible. 

Maybe Malfoy was right. Maybe he did deserve her. His heart soared at the thought. He pictured them together, lying naked on his bed, their limbs entwined as they writhed with mind-blowing passion. He heard her uneven breaths and the sharp sounds she made as she reached her sexual release. Just the thought of it gave him a raging hard-on. He looked down at himself in amusement. 

If the thought of her could do this to him, he could only imagine what the reality of her would be like. 

Setting the bar of soap aside, his hand snaked down to his erection and he began to stroke himself, lost in his fantasies. He'd resorted to this activity often since his confinement and he couldn't bring himself to feel ashamed of it this time. He'd never wanted anyone so badly in his life. As he gripped himself harder, he imagined being inside of her, her warm velvet heat clenching him as he thrust into her with a timeless rhythm. His hand moved faster and with a fierce shout of her name, he came hard and furiously. Shaking with his release, he leaned his head against the tile, breathing heavily. 

He gave a slow, wicked smile. 

Oh yes . . . it was settled. 

He had to see her. 

********************************* 

The following evening Ginny Weasley left her darkened office and slowly made her way out of the building that housed The Daily Prophet. She made a rather forlorn and lonely picture as she walked the side street towards the main square of Diagon Alley. She'd taken to working late in the aftermath of her breakup with Harry, and while she wasn't as obsessive as Hermione, she still knew the value of losing oneself in one's work. She looked at her watch and sighed. It was already eight o'clock in the evening. She'd moved out of The Burrow the previous year and had been renting a small flat about four blocks away from her office. While she missed her family terribly, it had been the first step in her resolve to find an independent life away from the rest of the Weasleys. 

The street was illuminated by tall, ornate lamps, and a slight flurry of snow was beginning to fall. Stopping to rest on a bench outside a small cafe, she looked up to the lights, hypnotized by the white puffs of ice as they swirled around the halo of the lamplight. She shivered and unbidden, her thoughts inevitably turned to Harry Potter. 

Unfortunately, after the last night she'd spent in Harry's bed, a tabloid reporter had spotted her sneaking out of his house that morning, and their secret affair had been exposed. Harry's response to the press had been a terse, "No comment." While Ginny had been mortified, her colleagues at The Daily Prophet had initially respected her privacy. That is, until "The Breakup". She hadn't seen Harry in weeks and the maddening part of it all was that even though she was the editor of the Entertainment section, her colleagues had been begging her to reveal the real reason for the split. Her society writer had been practically salivating at the thought of an exclusive story. Given Ginny's position at the paper, she'd been able to put a nix on that idea and eventually the fervor had died. 

For her, anyway. 

Harry Potter had been another story. Ever since he'd been a young boy, the wizarding community had followed his life with a borderline fixation that was most irritating to The-Boy-Who-Lived. Ginny read daily accounts of his exploits and to her utter heartbreak, it appeared that he'd dealt with their breakup by dating just about every available girl who threw herself at him. And that was quite a long list. There were tabloid pictures of Harry having a quiet, intimate dinner with some blonde babe, or coming out of a theatre with a buxom brunette. They'd even followed him to a spa and had snapped a picture of him rubbing a suntan potion on a lithe bikini-clad young woman with gorgeous Asian features. Ginny wondered if Harry noticed her resemblance to Cho Chang. 

Probably. 

She sighed and got up from the bench, moving quickly down the street. The cold air was beginning to penetrate her wool cloak and she hurried to make her way home. She noticed a large crowd outside a French restaurant, and curiosity getting the better of her, she moved closer to take a look. She gulped. 

Harry was standing on the steps of the restaurant, clutching the arm of a beautiful blonde woman while flashbulbs were popping from at least a dozen cameras. Squinting in the glare, he was shoving his way through the crowd, careful to keep a grip on the young witch at his side. People were yelling at him all at once, asking the identity of his escort. Ginny immediately recognized them as the foreign paparazzi. 

Oh, bloody hell . . . she had to get out of there fast. 

Suddenly a reporter turned to her and fairly screamed with delight. "It's Ginny Weasley! Miss Weasley, do you have a comment? How does it feel to see your former boyfriend with another woman?" 

Ginny felt the rise of panic within her but before she could retort, a familiar aristocratic voice drawled, "How do you think it feels, you bloody wanker? Have you no respect for people's privacy?" 

Ginny whirled to see Draco Malfoy, a look of utter distaste on his face. 

The crowd of reporters surged in and pretty soon, Draco found himself at the center of their attention. A Malfoy defending a Weasley? What on earth was the world coming to? 

Draco immediately recognized his mistake. "Time for some damage control," he thought. He snarled to the press that while he found Harry Potter's taste in women rather appalling, he found their wolf-pack mentality even more offensive. All the while he was insulting them, he was backing away, his hand firmly grasping Ginny's arm. Suddenly one of the reporters noticed that Harry was hurriedly making his way down the street and he pointed at him, yelling, "Harry Potter's getting away!" With typical attention deficit, the reporters began running down the street after him. 

Ginny stared at Draco. 

He towered over her and looking down into her heart-shaped face, he felt an unfamilar wrench in his heart. She looked so tiny and vulnerable. Tears were threatening to spill and her lower lip quivered. Draco felt an uncharacteristic protective feeling sneaking in. 

Great Goblins-On-A Stick! This was a Weasley for Nimue's sake . . . no time to go soft! He shouldn't even be looking at her, he already had a 'girlfriend.' "Oh shit," he remembered . . . "Hermione!" He mustn't blow his cover. 

Pulling Ginny with him, he ducked with her into an alleyway, his eyes furtively scanning the street for any stray reporters. "You really are a glutton for punishment, Weasley," he said to her in a scornful voice. It was just the thing she needed to hear. 

"Fuck off, Ferret-Boy!" Ginny spat at him. 

"How original," he said drolly. "You Weasleys have filthy mouths, by the way. Couldn't you come up with something better?" 

Ginny sputtered. "How about "Dicksplat' or 'Piss-Arse' or 'Hairy Axe Wound'--" 

"I get the picture," he said, trying to keep the laughter from his voice. 

Ginny looked at him in astonishment. Was he trying not to smile? Suddenly she remembered a conversation she'd overheard between her father and Ron only a week earlier. She'd stayed the weekend at The Burrow and was coming downstairs for a late night snack when she'd heard raised voices coming from the kitchen. Unable to resist eavesdropping, she was surprised to hear that Draco Malfoy was actually a spy for The Order of The Phoenix. Ron was telling Arthur that he didn't trust him and to her surprise, Arthur was defending him, saying that he'd proven himself loyal over and over again. 

"You," she said and abruptly stopped. Draco raised a questioning eyebrow. 

"You're a spy," she said softly. Draco scowled. 

"I'd like to know where you got that idea," he said with menace. Ginny wasn't fooled. 

"It makes complete sense. Harry came to me and told me that Voldemort wants to court me . . . for lack of a better term. I couldn't figure out how he knew such a thing but now I think I've got it figured out. You told him, didn't you?" 

"I'm not saying a word until you tell me what you know." He waited impatiently, tapping his foot. 

"I overheard my dad and my brother talking. I know you're really working for The Order of The Phoenix." 

Draco began to mutter about bloody Weasleys with their bloody loud mouths. Bloody Loud-Mouthed Weasleys . . . hey, that sounded like a species of baboon . . . 

Ginny started giggling. 

Startled, Draco regarded her thoughtfully. "It's not funny, Ginny," he said, surprising them both by calling her by her first name. He'd never done that before. 

"I'm sorry," she gulped, then she started giggling again helplessly. For a minute, he just stared at her, arms folded, while she got it out of her system. Finally she looked at him soberly. 

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I suppose I should thank you . . . not only for what you did tonight, but for everything you're doing for The Cause. I have to confess that I couldn't figure out why Hermione would possibly want to be with you, but I guess you're not such a bad bloke. Unless this thing with Hermione is also a sham." She narrowed her eyes as she contemplated him. 

His face remained closed. "I'm not discussing this with you. You're safer not knowing anything about anything. Just run along home to your little Weasley life and forget about all of this. Let's set the world right again and pledge our hatred to each other, all right? I hate you, by the way." He didn't sound entirely convincing. 

Ginny nodded. "I can promise you that I won't think about it again. And, erm, I hate you too." She also sounded a little unsure. 

Draco didn't seem to notice. Nodding in approval, he turned and walked away. Ginny watched him for a long time, until he disappeared around a corner. 

**************************************************** 

Hermione walked back to her chambers after having a late dinner in the Potions Lab. The house elves had been very accommodating to her bizarre schedule and she'd found herself eating at all hours of the day and night. Albus told her earlier that day that his team had finally refined the Soul Shattering Spell and the time was coming when they'd have to do experiments combining the spell with the potion. He planned on calling a meeting to begin instruction in the art of casting the spell and Hermione was relieved that they were getting closer and closer to their goal. 

If only Voldemort would ask for her. She needed to be developing a relationship with him, however much the thought terrified her. She wondered briefly about Draco's anxiety over the whole situation. She'd never known him to be anything other than arrogant and confident. She felt a little uneasy. 

As she walked into her chambers, she made a beeline for her desk and noticed that there were some new parchments from Severus, the results of his latest experiments. Albus must have placed them there while she'd been working. She looked at Severus' elegant, spidery script and she lovingly rubbed her fingers over the words. It made her feel connected to him somehow. 

Gods! She missed him so. 

Shrugging off her robes, she made her way into her bedroom, with the intention of changing into some fresh clothing before heading back to Potions Lab for a late night session. She was still having trouble with one of the base ingredients of the potion-- it was still too unstable to be completely effective. She'd been thinking about it all day and had come up with a theory that she wanted to test. 

As her eyes adjusted to the dim light in her bedroom, she was surprised to see something lying across the pillow on her bed. Moving closer, she saw that it was a single red rose, and it gave off a heady, pleasant scent. 

She gingerly picked it up and immediately felt a familiar hook just behind her navel. Her feet lifted off the ground and she was speeding forward in a howl of wind and a swirl of colors. 

Portkey! 

Merlin! How could she be so stupid? Before she could finish the thought, Hermione found herself in an unfamiliar house, stumbling along in the entrance hall of what looked to be some sort of hunting lodge. She noticed an open door to her left and walking cautiously to it, she stepped inside. 

Looking around in confusion, she was momentarily rattled to see Severus, his body a sharp silhouette against the light of the fire. As he turned to her, she sucked in a deep breath, gratified that she was finally in the presence of the man who'd haunted her dreams for months. 

He moved briskly to her, and cupping her face in his hands, he immediately brought his lips to hers. They'd shared several kisses, but never had he kissed her with such intensity, such hunger. Hermione's heart took flight as she answered his fervor with a thrust of her tongue between his pliant lips. His tongue returned the favor, stroking the inside of her mouth, and he let out soft little whimpers as he did so. The thought that she could do this to such a powerful wizard was incredibly sexy and stimulating. His mouth lowered to her neck, nipping at her gently as his hand moved to her breast, delicately squeezing as he did so. She threw her head back and moaned his name. Severus caught her lips again, the fire spreading between them like a raging inferno. Reluctantly breaking away from their kiss, he looked at her in wonder. 

"My love," he said softly. 

  
TBC 

********************************************************** 

Author's note: Thanks to my beta-reader, Elizabeth, who was a great help with this chapter. I couldn't do this without her, she's the best! 

The next chapter promises to be, erm, explosive (wink wink) 


	18. Chapter 17: Wonderland

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the characters, I only own the plot of this story, so no surprises there. Please note that this chapter is rated R for language and sexual content. 

Author's Note: This chapter is rather LEMONY, with a dash of fluff . . . for those of you who want to see an even MORE lemony, NC17 version of this chapter here's the link to Whispers. Again, you must be of age to view this: 

And now, on the Shattered: 

********************************  
if you want love  
we'll make it  
swim in a deep sea  
of blankets  
take all your big plans  
and break 'em  
this is bound to be awhile 

Your body is a wonderland  
Your body is a wonder  
I'll use my hands  
Your body is a wonderland 

~From the song, "Your Body is a Wonderland" by John Mayer 

****************************** 

Chapter 17: Wonderland 

  
Hermione looked into Severus' starless eyes, unable to believe that he was finally standing before her. It had been six long weeks without him and she hungrily took in the feel of him as she caressed his face and neck. Her astonished brain registered his term of endearment, but before she could say another word, he reached down and kissed her again, this time with a gentleness that took her breath away. 

When they finally broke apart, she said softly, "Severus! Is it really you?" 

"I should hope so, otherwise I'll have to challenge myself to a duel," he said with wry humour. Bringing her hand up to his lips, he kissed her palm, and then wickedly darted his tongue over its surface, a mischievous glint in his eye. Hermione let out a soft gasp, and a shiver ran up her spine. 

"But I thought," she began. 

"Shhh," Severus hushed her, bringing his fingers to her lips. "Before we go any further, I must ask for your forgiveness. I was wrong to turn you away. My only excuse is that you've completely turned my world upside down and I didn't know what to do." 

"And now you do?" 

He gave her a slow, bewitching smile. "Oh yes, I know exactly what to do," he said seductively. "It's what I should have done a long time ago. But first, can you ever forgive me for hurting you? I know I probably don't deserve it, but I promise to make things up to you." 

Hermione searched his face and saw nothing but honest regret in his eyes. He looked hopeful and vulnerable and exposed, all at once. It was a most amazing sight, so unlike the man he presented to the outside world. 

Her heart was singing. "Of course I forgive you! I love you . . . " 

He let out an uncharacteristic whoop, and then suddenly he was kissing her again, this time with a burning urgency. He began steering her towards the doorway, all the while his lips moving firmly against hers. He broke away and taking her hand, he quickly led her up the staircase. Hermione took a moment to wonder where they were, but then he distracted her once again by clasping her hands overhead and whirling her as he pushed her up against the wall on the landing. His body pinned her, dazing her with the hard, masculine feel of it. He slid himself down her length and moved in for another passionate kiss. Hermione began to shake with desire. 

She pulled back long enough to gasp, "Where are we going?" 

He let out a low growl. "I'm taking you to my bedroom and then, my sweet, I'm going to do what I've wanted to do from the first moment I saw you in London. I'm going to fuck you into delirium." 

His words sent her into an explosion of wetness and she whimpered in anticipation. 

With a sudden movement, he reached one arm across her shoulders and the other swept her legs up as he carried her the rest of the way up the staircase. She reached a hand to cup his cheek and she began kissing him along his neck and jaw, flicking his skin with her tongue. Severus moaned in response and felt himself harden even more. 

He hadn't thought that was possible. 

Making his way down the hall, he paused long enough to kick the door of his bedroom open, stepping inside with an urgency that threatened to overwhelm them both. He gently released her, so that she was standing flush against him and she was gratified to again feel the length of him along her body. Pressing against him, she felt his hardness and he hissed with pleasure. 

Looking deeply in her eyes, he slowly backed her towards his large bed, until she could go no further. "Do you want me, Hermione? Tell me you want me." His voice was like silk against a jagged rock. 

Hermione was almost mindless with her want. "Oh yes! Gods yes! I want you so badly!" She began frantically pulling on his robe. 

He gave her a roguish grin and unbuttoned her robe, slowly taking it off. Once exposed, he began caressing and kissing her in the little niche where her neck met her shoulder. "Now it's your turn," he murmured against her skin. 

Hermione laughed with delight. "I didn't know you were so democratic, Severus!" 

He looked momentarily stern. "Trust me, we want to prolong this experience, including the disrobing." He bent and whispered in her ear, "All good things come to those who wait, my dear," before he gently bit her earlobe. Hermione couldn't help but notice that he emphasized the word 'come' and felt a tingling between her legs. He brushed his palms over her breasts in a teasing manner, before quickly snatching his hands away and burying them in her hair. 

Hermione felt her breath quicken. "I'm beginning to see your point," she conceded. 

Taking his cue, she slid his robe off him, noticing he wore a white linen shirt underneath. She slowly ran her hands over his chest and she could feel his nipples peaking through the fabric as her fingers gently brushed them. He closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation and then moved his hands over her blouse to quickly unbutton it. He hastily removed it and then reached down for the zipper of her skirt. 

"Severus! I thought we were taking turns!" 

He gave her a playful smirk. "I don't play fair, my love . . . you know that." Unzipping her skirt, he pulled it down to her ankles and she stepped out of it, kicking off her shoes. He took a step back and raked his eyes over her body. She was clad only in a matching black lace bra and panties. "Vixen," he smiled to himself. She looked at him shyly and he felt his heart melt. 

"Exquisite," he breathed, reaching for her. 

She danced away from him. "Tit for tat," she said, as he arched an eyebrow in amusement. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt and he shrugged it off, allowing it to crumple to the floor. Contemplating the buttons on his trousers, she muttered, "Blast!" while he smirked at her again. Swiftly taking her wand from her discarded robe, she cast a quick spell, removing his pants, socks and boots. He stared at her in astonishment, wearing only a pair of dark green silk boxers on his lean form. He had the sudden urge to squirm, before he heroically stopped himself. 

"I don't play fair either," she smiled. 

Moving against her, he gently pushed her on the bed and maneuvered his body over hers, surging in for a moist, wicked kiss. Hermione clutched his shoulders and arched against him, letting out a soft groan. He kissed the notch in her sternum and slowly began kissing and licking, making his way down until he reached the velvet skin between her breasts. Taking the front clasp of her bra between his teeth, he deftly unfastened it. Hermione gasped in surprise. 

"Where did you learn--" 

"Nevermind." 

Hermione promptly forgot her question as he gazed down in awe at her newly freed breasts. With an intense look, he leaned down to taste one and Hermione let out a wail. "Oh Gods! That feels incredible!" He gently sucked and swirled his tongue, while his fingers moved in slow circles around the other. Hermione fought for breath as she writhed beneath him, running her fingers through his soft, fine hair. Severus continued to lick and bite at her breast and she thought she would die from the sensation. Who knew he could use his mouth like that? 

Severus lifted that incredible mouth and brought his lips up to hers, his tongue plunging into the soft depths. Leaning on one elbow, he allowed his other hand to stroke along her flank. She turned towards him and he reached behind her to brush his fingers along the curve of her lower back and rounded buttock. She gave a soft sigh and began moving her hands along his chest. Her fingers played with the soft wiry hair, as she gently pinched his peaks. He felt like he was free-falling . . . it was most intoxicating. He looked at her with liquid eyes, his passion making him even more beautiful. "Hermione," he moaned. "My love." 

Hermione felt a tug in her heart at his words. 

She lowered her hand to his boxers and felt him there, tracing his outline with her fingertips, before gripping him firmly. Severus threw back his head and let out a guttural sound that Hermione had never heard before. She lingered on him for a moment, before dipping her fingers in his waistband to slide his boxers down. 

"Yes," he hissed. "Oh Gods, yes!" He sprang free from his previous confinement and Hermione looked down in anticipation. "Magnificent!" she thought in wonder. She ran her fingers along him and his heart began to pound as he pushed against her hand. With a devilish grin, she brought her moist fingertips to her lips, darting her tongue to taste him. Severus thought it was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen and he whimpered with ecstasy. He moved his hand to her panties and with an impatient tug, he pulled them off. He immediately began to stroke her inner thigh, teasing her until she pulsed with want. For a moment, he was content to drown in the astounding sensation of his naked skin rubbing against hers, as he kissed her like a man going under for the last time. Freeing their lips, he paused to look at her quizzically. 

"What do you want, Hermione?" he breathed heavily. "What do you want me to do?" 

"Just touch me. Please touch me everywhere!" 

"Like this?" he asked with feigned innocence, as he ran his fingers down the front of her body, resting near the fleece at her apex. 

"More," she pleaded. 

Relenting, he found the spot that begged his attention, as he began to slowly rub her. 

She let out a hoarse shout and arched herself against his fingers. He continued to apply a gentle pressure, moving his fingertips in circles until she could barely stand it. Such talented, talented fingers. 

Suddenly he paused and Hermione let out a cry of protest. 

Smiling, he moved himself over her body and bringing his hand up to grip hers, he looked at her intensely. Whispering, he said slowly, "I belong to you, you belong to me." He gazed at her ardently as she comprehended his words. A gold energy began to swirl around their clasped hands. "I don't want to do this without you knowing what you mean to me," he said softly. He looked momentarily uncertain. 

The Soul Binding Spell. 

It meant that they were pledging their souls to each other, a promise of eternal love. Hermione felt tears of joy falling as she whispered back, "I belong to you, you belong to me." Severus thought he would die from happiness. The gold energy intensified and soon it enveloped them, lifting their entwined bodies off the bed. 

In a swirl of gold-flecked light, Severus poised his hips over hers. The spell cushioned them on air, and yet they were able to move against each other at will. With a shaking hand, she guided him into her core, and at the moment of joining, they both cried out in bliss. Severus brought his lips down to her ear and whispered, "I love you, Hermione. I will always love you." Hermione felt the truth of his words as he kissed her and began slowly moving within her. 

She could feel him in his entirety, each movement causing her breath to come in ever sharper gasps. He flicked his tongue to match his rhythm as he continued to kiss her with deepening passion. Adjusting to his cadence, she wrapped her body around him, her hands roaming restlessly down his back. He tore his lips from hers, moaning her name over and over again. As he rocked against her, she felt an exquisite sensation that spiraled with each movement. Hermione arched her back, her hair hanging down in curly waves to touch the pillow beneath them. She cried out, louder and louder with each advance, mindless with repletion as their bodies floated even higher off the bed. The sounds she was making caused him to quicken his pace and he answered her cries with those of his own. Suddenly she stiffened and with a choked sob, she was pushed over the edge, her body clenching him with fierce delight . Severus finally let go and flinging his head back he let out a magnificent groan, his body shuddering. Breathing heavily, they finally stopped moving, succumbing to a feeling of complete bliss as they held each other tightly. 

Slowly, their bodies lowered back onto the bed. The golden energy faded until only a tingle on their skin reminded them that they were magically bound together. 

Severus leaned down to kiss her tenderly before he withdrew and settled his head against her breasts. With a lazy snap of his fingers and a soft murmur, a silk sheet and silver velvet blanket floated up to cover their bodies. He sighed with exhaustion, feeling utterly boneless and happy. 

Hermione gazed down at him as he lay on top of her, cradled between her legs. His long hair obscured his face and the only thing she could see was the satisfied smile curling his lips. She stroked his hair and remembered the feel of him inside of her. He lifted his head long enough to try to move off her, but she tightened her grip on him until he gave up and fell asleep with a soft, contented sigh. 

Hermione continued to stroke his hair and regarded him with an overwhelming sense of love and completion. This is what she'd been waiting for, all her life. She just never knew it before. 

He loved her. Nothing brought her greater joy. 

Crooning soft words of love to him, she finally fell asleep. 

********************************************** 

The virtual morning sunlight appeared with a soft pink glow, draping over the reclining figures on the large mahogany bed. One figure, her honey brown hair spread like a halo, was fast asleep, her quiet breathing a melody to her lover. He, in turn, had lifted his head, his face bent close to hers as he traced the outlines of her lips with his fingers. He was committing her present image to memory. No matter what transpired in his future life, he knew that he'd never forget this past night or waking with her in the early morning. He'd been observing her in her sleep for the better part of an hour. 

She smelled heavenly, all flowers and spices, mingled with the distinctive smell of spent passion. 

She finally sighed and stirred, intuitively kissing his poised fingertips. He closed his eyes, but then she surprised him by suddenly taking a finger into her mouth, her tongue swirling sensuously. He felt himself stirring against her thigh as she slowly opened her eyes and spoke with a soft croak. 

"So it wasn't a dream." 

He chuckled and pressed himself intimately against her. Her eyes widened. "I'd say not," he said as he reached in to give her a slow, leisurely kiss. "Good morning, love." 

"Yes it is," she said, sounding suspiciously like the Gryffindor Know-It-All of old. "Smug," thought Severus with secret amusement. "She sounds smug." For once, it didn't irritate him. Before he could further muse upon that, she brought his thoughts back to things more pleasant by pulling his face to hers and whispering, "About last night . . . it was--" 

"Sublime," he finished huskily. She grinned and vehemently nodded her head agreement. Reaching her lips to his face, he was expecting another kiss, but she surprised him by asking a blunt question. 

"Where in blazes are we?" 

"I'm afraid that's a little hard to explain. The best I can tell you is that we're in some sort of 'other dimension', one that doesn't exist in the physical world. This place you see is actually a replica of my family's hunting lodge. Apparently I created it with my mind. Not a bad job of it, if I may say." Now it was his turn to sound smug. 

"So is this real?" 

He swooped in for a hard kiss, nipping her lower lip with enthusiasm before releasing it. 

"What do you think?" 

"It feels real," she said, but her mind was whirling with the impossibilities of what he was saying. 

"Think of it this way . . . have you ever had a lucid dream? It's where you know you're having a dream while you experience it." 

Hermione remembered something she hadn't thought about in years. "When I was a child, I used to dream that I could fly and sometimes I'd realize that it was a dream. It felt like I'd awakened from my sleep, only to find myself still within my dream. It was incredible." 

"Yet it still felt real while you were experiencing it, did it not?" he asked. She nodded as he continued, "And so it is, here. We're really here, but our surroundings are not real, they're rather like a dream. I was always particularly adept at lucid dreaming, which is why Albus thought this particular hiding place would be good. As a child, I used to explore vast oceans in my dreams and then wake up in them. I would swim around for hours and feel the water rippling around me while I watched the colourful fish. I could completely control what would happen and what I'd experience. Very heady stuff for a little boy. Later in my life, lucid dreaming allowed me to escape the horrors of my life as a Death Eater and spy. When the stress got to be too great, I'd retreat into a pretty world of my own making. I used to kill Voldemort on a regular basis, by the way." He smiled at her ruefully. "Eventually, no matter how hard I tried, I only had nightmares." Hermione gave him a comforting caress. "One of the differences here is that once I went through the portal, the dream-world was 'locked in'. Thus, you've found yourself at my hunting lodge. I suppose my mind chose it because it was my safe haven when I was a child. Do you like it?" 

"It's brilliant," she said with enthusiasm. "Erm, the decor is interesting, though." 

"So I've been told," he said dryly. "I'm surprised you even had time to notice." He ran his fingers through her hair and was about to reach in for another kiss when they were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. "Master Snape? Is you awake?" 

Hermione couldn't believe it. "Virtual House Elves?" she asked indignantly. 

Severus gave her a withering look. "It's my dream world, lassie, not yours!" Turning his attention to the door, he barked, "Enter!" Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes. The tiny little elf didn't seem frightened, though. He only asked if they wanted breakfast. 

"In an hour," Severus said. "We'll take it out in the gardens, Noggy." Noticing Hermione's look he added gruffly, "Thank you, that will be all." 

"An hour?" She looked suspicious. "Whatever are we going to do with ourselves for an hour?" She squealed as Severus suddenly grabbed her and rolled them over, until she was lying on top of him. Her hair flopped down to tickle his nose and she pushed herself up, straddling his hips as the bed sheets fell from her body. He took a deep breath as she was exposed in all her naked glory to his hungry eyes. He reached his hands to caress her hips, moving them urgently up her body until he gently cupped a breast, making her moan. 

Leaning down to him, she whispered, "I have other talents that we didn't explore last night." 

Her words made him literally spring to life. 

"Show me," he said breathlessly, as she began to kiss her way down his body. She paused to dart her tongue around his navel before going lower and lower. He began to pant in anticipation. 

"A wizard could get used to this," he said to himself. It was his last conscious thought before he completely surrendered to his passion. 

**************************************************** 

Two hours later they were sprawled on the vast lawns of the estate, a fleece blanket spread beneath them. It was sunny and green and smelled of roses and pungent herbs. Severus was leaning up against a tree, a book casually suspended in mid-air, while he read. His hand absently stroked Hermione's hair, her head in his lap. She was twirling a flower he'd plucked for her from the gardens, spinning it between her index finger and thumb, a faraway, dreamy look on her face. They'd made love again that morning, slower, more leisurely . . . taking the time to memorize all the niches and nooks on each other's body. Hermione discovered that Severus was ticklish just under his ribcage and had exploited this to the point that he'd pinned her down and left a particularly prominent love bite just above her collarbone. She could honestly say that the end was no less satisfying than the night before. She was discovering that Severus had many facets to his personality and she had a feeling that at one point or another, they would all play out in their lovemaking. 

Delicious thought, that . . . certainly never boring. 

Hermione took in her surroundings and was fascinated with the idea that none of what they were seeing was actually real. Even so, the gardens were incredibly beautiful. 

It was a one hectare garden lined by fine oaks, which protected a vast display of daffodils. Severus told her it was very small by Snape Standards, but had been planted anyway in order to appease his great grandmother. Inside the walls there were orchards containing a variety of fruit trees surrounded by mixed borders with shrubs, herbaceous plants and roses. Hermione had been surprised to see daffodils and roses blooming at the same time, but then, she knew that in Severus' dream-world, anything was possible. He proudly presented his herb garden, with an extensive collection of culinary and medicinal plants. All in all, it was very charming and impressive. She especially liked the ancient Yew hedges. 

"Severus." 

"Hmmm?" 

"What made you change your mind? About us, I mean." 

Severus tore his attention from the book and contemplated telling her the truth. In all fairness, he might still be leading a very lonely existence if it hadn't been for Draco Malfoy. The cunning blond Slytherin may have pointed the way to "The Meaning of Life" but Severus still couldn't think of him as anything other than a lost little schoolboy. Perhaps it was time to give the little blighter the respect he deserved. He gave an inward chuckle. What was it about Malfoy that made you want to call him names? 

"What's so funny, Severus?" 

"Draco Malfoy. Draco made me change my mind." 

Hermione stared at him, astounded. "Draco? But how?" 

"You're not going to believe this." Severus told her about his visit with Draco, leaving the part out about his suspicions that younger man had wanted her for himself. He knew it wasn't true, Draco had proven that to him, but, in all honesty, she didn't need to know he'd been jealous of Malfoy. Instead of being dumbfounded like he'd expected, she began laughing and said, "That bloody bugger! That wonderful, bloody bugger!" At Severus' look of incomprehension she said, "Haven't you noticed? He's changing, Severus. I think we've been a rather good influence on him. Perhaps when this is all over and done with, he can find some peace and happiness. Maybe even love. I think he deserves it." 

"If you'd said that to me a month ago, I would have called you a sentimental fool, my dear. However, if there's hope for me then I suppose there's hope for anyone," he said seriously. He suddenly stopped himself and shuddered. "Gods! I can't believe I just said that!" He shook his head vigorously. "You're going to ruin me, Hermione Granger!" he roared. "I'm losing my bloody edge! The next thing you know, I'll be humming show tunes in the classroom. Oh Nimue! Just hex me now!" 

Hermione was howling with laughter. 

"I think you'll manage to be the old bastard, same as always," she reassured him. 

"You think so? One can only hope . . ." 

Still snickering, Hermione looked at his book and noticed it was a collection of poetry. While Severus didn't usually indulge in recreational reading during the day, he had promised her that later they would visit the Potions Lab to spend a couple of hours working. He stressed that it would only be for the enjoyment of working together and that they were not to lose themselves in it. He'd made a point of sliding his hand between her legs when he said that. "We've more important things to do right now," he'd growled at her. 

Hermione couldn't have agreed more. 

Bringing herself back to the present, she said, "Read to me, Severus." 

He brought his attention back to the book and began turning the pages, a definite purpose in his action. With a smooth, velvet voice he began to recite: 

"Naked, you are simple as a hand,  
smooth, earthy, small . . . transparent, round.  
You have moon lines and apple paths;  
Naked, you are slender as the wheat." 

He looked down and gave her a crooked grin. "You like?" 

Hermione smiled widely. "Pablo Neruda? The Muggle poet? He's rather contemporary, don't you think? I would have thought you to be more drawn to the traditional classics. Will you ever cease to completely surprise me, Severus Snape?" 

He swooped in for a warm, wet kiss. 

"I hope not, my love." 

She settled her head back into his lap as he continued to recite to her. 

TBC 

******************************************************** 

Author's Note: This was my first attempt at erotica and I hope you like it. It's rather difficult to write, I had no idea! I'm sorry that some of you are annoyed with what is perceived to be "cliffhangers", but in a story such as this, where there is a lot of action and a lot of plot twists, it's very difficult to find a place to stop and NOT have it be a cliffie. It's important for each chapter to have a flow and logic to it. I hope you understand that I'm not trying to torture anyone . . . 

And once again, I give my sincerest thanks to those who have taken the time to review. A special thanks to my beta-baby, Elizabeth, for all her support and encouragement. 


	19. Chapter 18: Secrets

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


Do you really care to know me?  
Even the boundless dark secrets of my fear?  
When human touch feels like a burning brand,  
Then you will know what brought me here. 

~ From the poem, "Dark Secrets- Do You Know Me?" by Brunus Edwardii 

******************************** 

Chapter 18: Secrets 

Sitting on a lonely stool in the Hogs Head, Draco Malfoy looked around at his surroundings with complete and undeniable boredom. While he absolutely hated butterbeer, he'd impulsively stopped in for a bit of cheap scotch and water before heading off to Knockturn Alley. Hogs Head attracted a rather rough, more interesting crowd, but this afternoon it was filled with little old wizards and tipsy Goblins. Draco eyed the swizzle stick with disdain as it glared up at him and huffed, "Well, if you're not going to swirl me, why don't you just piss off?" 

Draco sighed with utter detachment. 

Indifference had always come naturally to him and as a matter of habit, he found himself looking for something to peak his interest. A good brawl was in order, but unfortunately, Scarhead was nowhere to be found. 

It figured. 

Harry Potter was apparently away on some secret mission, the lucky bugger. He briefly wondered if it had anything to do with Ginny Weasley. 

Weasley. 

A dish best served cold, in his opinion. She was a real fireball, that one. There was a niggling in the back of his mind that she was going to prove rather troublesome and he shook his head, trying to fling the thought away. 

Draco got up without finishing his drink and abruptly apparated to Knockturn Alley. He'd planned on spending the afternoon browsing at Borgins & Burkes, which aside from The Boom Boom Room, was his most favorite place in that seedy part of town. Dumbledore had told him earlier that day that Hermione was "away" for the afternoon and while Draco wasn't certain, he had a feeling that his uncle was occupying her time. He couldn't help but leer at the thought. "I wonder what they're doing right now?" he wondered. While the mental image of Severus in his skivvies made him shudder, he was fascinated at the thought of the old Potions Master taking a walk on the wild side. He even contemplated showing up at Hermione's doorstep, a box of chocolate truffles in hand, to try to coax the gory details from her. Of course, he'd have to get her in just the right mood for some "girl talk". Maybe if he offered a foot massage? He shook his head. Too obvious. Chances were, he'd end up with a good scolding and a poke in the eye from her wand. 

He let out another audible sigh as he walked into Borgins & Burkes. He hoped she wasn't going to be gone too long. Having her away was dicey and things were mucked up enough as it was. 

There were rows and rows of interesting magical items at the shop and he'd been particularly drawn to a shrunken head that looked remarkably like his great Uncle Basil. After making the mistake of putting his finger to its mouth, it bit down hard with its sharp little teeth, just as Draco's forearm started burning. 

He cursed under his breath. "What a perfectly horrid way to ruin a perfectly lovely afternoon," he thought sullenly. 

In an instant, Draco apparated to Voldemort's lair with Uncle Basil still clenched to his finger. Why on earth did he feel compelled to stick his fingers where they didn't belong? 

Vigorously shaking off the offending head, he entered the Dark Lord's library, where the ugly creature sat hunched before a cold fire. Voldemort really did look terrible. His gray scaly skin looked parched and dry and once again, the stench of decay was overwhelming. 

"Draco, my boy," he said, holding out his ringed hand. 

"Who does he think he is?" thought Draco. "The bloody Muggle Pope?" He obediently knelt and kissed the ring. Voldemort motioned to him to have a seat. "Come, we have much to discuss." 

Politely sitting on the edge of the chair, Draco kept his silence, allowing Voldemort to initiate the conversation. He felt a stab of fear, the likes of which he'd never felt before in the Dark Lord's presence. 

"The time has come for you to bring me Hermione Granger." 

Draco carefully schooled his face to impassivity, but inside he was screaming. "Gods! Not yet! We're not ready!" 

"Of course, my Lord," he answered in a steady voice. "May I ask for what purpose?" 

"I need to get a feel for her loyalties," Voldemort said weakly. "If she is truly on our side, then she will play a central role in my rise to power and in the downfall of The Order of the Phoenix." 

Draco calculated his question before asking, "But how, my Lord?" 

"I'm not sure you need to know that," said Voldemort, rather petulantly. 

"My Lord," said Draco quietly. "I think I've proven my loyalty over and over again. I've betrayed The Order of The Phoenix and I've done everything you've asked of me. I think I deserve to know what your plans are. Perhaps I could even give you suggestions on how to handle Dr. Granger?" 

Voldemort looked at him shrewdly, as if he were reading Draco's mind. For a moment, Draco felt an almost overwhelming anxiety, but the Dark Lord just nodded and said, "Yes, I suppose you've got a point. You've earned the right to know." 

Standing up slowly, he walked rather unsteadily to an old bookcase and pulled out a heavy leather tome, gold letters faded on its cover. Turning to Draco he said, "What do you know of the Sentients, Mr. Malfoy?" 

"I know that Hermione is a Sentient and that they're a special brand of Healer, capable of healing injuries from Dark Magic. I know that all Sentients belong to the Order of Chiron, which is a secret society of Master Healers. The training is grueling, according to Hermione. I also know that she carries the Mark of The Phoenix on her neck, which allows her to bestow a healing kiss to someone who is moments away from death due to Dark Magic. General stuff, really." 

Voldemort nodded. "While what you are saying is true, there is one other special gift that is bestowed upon the Sentients, one which allows them to perform the ultimate Healing. Have you ever heard of The Sentient Healing Ritual?" 

Draco frowned. "No, I can't say that I have. What is it?" 

Voldemort held up the cover of the book for Draco's inspection. "I have obtained a copy of a rare book called, "Arcanus Sentiens". It outlines the secrets of the Sentient and I came across something rather interesting. The Sentient Healing Ritual allows the Sentient to completely transfer his or her powers over to another individual, to combine with the innate magical abilities of that other person. It allows the individual who is being healed to become even more than he was before . . . more powerful, more vigorous and more vital. That is my interest in Hermione Granger. With her help, I will rise to an even greater power than before, when that Potter brat ruined all my plans." 

Draco let out a low whistle. "That's unbelievable! Hermione never mentioned it to me." 

The Dark Lord let out a menacing laugh. "That's because she probably knows nothing about it." 

"I wouldn't bet on that," thought Draco, remembering Hermione's look of fear at the mere mention of the book. "But my Lord," he said carefully. "Would Hermione be willing to undergo The Sentient Healing Ritual with you? It sounds very extreme." 

"Oh, she will, my boy. I'll make sure of it. The only catch is that she has to undergo the process willingly, and I'm counting on you to help me persuade her." He gave Draco a penetrating look with his bright red eyes. 

"Consider it done, my Lord. And if I may say, I think it best we approach Hermione with the idea that your intentions are peaceful." 

Voldemort snorted. "It's unlikely that she would believe that." 

"Oh, but she will! I've already laid the foundation, my Lord. I've been talking to her at length about Muggle history. She seems intent upon comparing you to Hitler, who was the leader of Muggle Germany --" 

"I know who he was!" Voldemort snapped. "He was a fool! He had a chance to gain his empire slowly, piece by piece, but he forced war with his unnecessary aggressiveness and instead lost everything." He paused before continuing. "Though I see where you're coming from, with regard to Dr. Granger. If she is a student of Muggle history, then she knows that mistakes were made where Hitler was concerned." He stroked his pointy chin, deep in thought. "Perhaps you are right," he said. "I will tell her that my plan is to court the wizarding world with talk of unification and peace. I will make her believe that I want to avoid bloodshed. Of course, once complacency sets in, I will strike quickly . . . The Order of The Phoenix won't even know what hit them." He gave a self-satisfied smile. "Dr. Granger need not know of my true intentions. We will persuade her that restoring my powers is the best road to peace. If what you're telling me is true, it's what she wants to hear and she will cooperate. If she does not, you will both forfeit your lives. Do we have a deal, my boy?" 

"Yes, my Lord." Draco paused for a moment before asking, "And what of the Shattering Potion and spell? What are your plans in that regard?" 

"Enough! I have already told you enough." 

Draco almost ground his teeth in frustration. Instead, he just nodded and asked, "When are we to meet with you? 

Voldemort relaxed and leaned back in his chair. "You are to bring her to me tomorrow evening. Take her to The Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade at seven o'clock. There you will be met by Death Eaters who will escort you to my latest hiding place. I've been moving around a lot, recently." 

Draco nodded. "We'll be there." He hesitated before asking, "I know I've asked many questions and I hope you will forgive me. I'm very curious about Ginny Weasley. Where does she fit in with all of this?" 

Voldemort looked pleased with himself. He gave Draco an ugly, but indulgent smile. "Ah, well . . . I prefer to keep that a surprise. But if you must know, I've left her a little message. She'll know what it means." 

Draco suppressed a shudder. 

There was no use denying it any longer. He had to disclose everything he'd done and everything he knew to Albus Dumbledore. This was proving worse than he thought. 

It was time to come clean with The Order of The Phoenix. 

*********************************** 

Hermione looked anxiously at the cauldron as the plum-coloured liquid convulsed and twirled, a stray bubble rising to its surface. She frowned at the parchment in her hands before asking, "Is it supposed to be that colour?" 

Severus gave her an affronted look. "Are you doubting my calculations, Dr. Granger?" 

Hermione grinned. After spending a serene afternoon together, they'd finally made their way to the Potions Lab, pausing on their journey to grope and kiss each other, pressing their hands along now familiar territory. Despite the seriousness of their project, Severus' low laugh echoed off the thick stone walls, as they entered the Lab to find the latest version of the potion simmering over a low fire. 

He hovered over the cauldron to carefully stir the liquid. "I was having trouble maintaining the final effects of the potion," he said. "Remember, the purpose here is to render the soul unstable for at least five seconds, allowing the the initial jolt of magic from the Spell to initiate the process of soul shattering. It's important that there be that lag time, so that the maximum effects of the potion is evident to us. We must initiate the Soul Shattering Spell at just the moment when the soul is at its peak of instability." 

Hermione nodded in understanding. "So how did you adjust the formula?" 

"I allowed the fluxweed to heat about a quarter of an hour longer. I think that will do the trick." He gave her a sideways glance. "It won't be ready for testing until later on tonight and by then you'll be--" He stopped when he saw the look on her face. 

"I'll be back at Hogwarts," she said quietly. She tried to keep her voice steady, but failed miserably. 

"Come here," he whispered, as he gathered her in his arms. "You knew we couldn't stay here together forever, Hermione. You have to go back before you're missed. We're taking a big enough chance as it is. If I wasn't sure that Albus would contact us immediately if there was a problem, I would never have chanced it." He kissed the top of her head. 

"I know," she whispered. "I don't regret any of this, but it's going to be so hard to go back." 

"Soon, my love," he said. "Soon it will be over." 

She lifted her head to touch her lips to his cheek. "Severus," she murmured. "There is something we need to talk about, something I've been turning over and over in my mind. I need to talk to you about The Order of Chiron and the book, "Arcanus Sentiens". 

Severus nodded slowly. "I was wondering if you'd ever get to that. Albus told me that Voldemort has shown an interest in the book. I take it you know more than you've let on?" 

"Yes," she said, as she took his hand and led him to a chair. She pulled up another one and they sat facing each other. She clasped both of his hands before speaking. 

"The Order of Chiron was named after the centaur Chiron, of Greek Mythology. Chiron's mother was a water-nymph who, while trying to run from Zeus' amorous overtures, turned herself into a horse. She did not escape, however, and Zeus impregnated her. When she gave birth, she was shocked to see that her newborn was half horse, half boy. The mother was so terrified that she prayed to the gods to be changed into a tree. Her wish was granted. Thus, both of Chiron's parents abandoned him. Instead of dwelling on that, though, he became a skilled teacher and healer. One day, while he was handing a poisoned arrow to a student, it dropped and pierced his leg. Since his father was a god, he was immortal, so he could not die. In terrible pain, he prayed to the gods to let him die. They, in gratitude for his teachings, let him out of his misery and placed him in the sky." 

"And what does that--" 

"There's more," said Hermione. "Chiron was known as the 'wounded healer', someone who knew about pain and suffering because of the events in his own life. The Order of Chiron is a group of healers who use Earth Energies to heal those in deep pain and who are suffering greatly. The process of becoming a Sentient is very demanding because it requires that the healer examine his or her own psyche, to draw upon their own pain and suffering to empathize with the person being healed. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done. While I was training, we were told of a book, "Arcanus Sentiens", which outlines a process by which the Sentient could perform the most ultimate healing imaginable. It is thought to be a ritual of some kind, but nobody knows the details because the book has been lost for centuries." 

"Until now." 

Hermione nodded. "Voldemort has apparently found the book. It likely gives the details of the ritual, but there is one thing that survived the loss of the book, one piece of information that scares me more than anything." Her body began to shake. 

Severus pulled her from her chair and set her down on his lap. He put his arms around her and said in a soothing voice, "Nothing will happen to you, Hermione. I promise I'll never let Voldemort hurt you. What is it that you're so frightened of?" 

Hermione pulled herself together and willed her body to stop its trembling. She looked up at Severus. 

"Once the Sentient performs the healing ritual, all of her powers are transferred to the other individual. Because we draw upon Earth energies, the sheer quantity of the magic we possess is enough to make the person we're healing into the most powerful wizard on Earth. By ourselves, Sentients are very powerful, but our energy combined with the energy of another, renders that person practically invincible. It's why it has rarely been performed. Only in times of great strife and turmoil has a Sentient been willing to undergo the ritual. It's only been performed twice, according to legend. Both times, it turned the tide in a devastating war." 

A look of comprehension dawned on Severus' face. "Voldemort--" 

Hermione nodded and tears began to form. "And it gets even worse for me," she whispered. Looking deep in his eyes she said, "The process would completely drain my magical abilities." 

She drew in a shaky breath before continuing. 

"If Voldemort forces me to undergo the ritual, I will become a Muggle." 

*********************************************************** 

After leaving the unpleasantness of Voldemort's company, Draco felt completely lost and alone. He'd disapparated back to Knockturn Alley and immediately began looking for a pub. He needed a good, stiff drink. 

It never failed to amaze him that there were terrible things going on in the wizarding world, yet the witches and wizards of Britain seemed oblivious to it all. Tortures, killings and horrendous rituals occurred on a daily basis yet life seemed to hum along like none of it was happening. 

Denial was not just confined to the Muggle world. 

Burdened with his knowledge, Draco felt a desolation within that threatened to completely sink his lagging spirits. "Perhaps I need a little denial of my own," he thought. He needed to escape the Darkness, even if it was only for a little while. Looking around at the creepy inhabitants of Knockturn Alley, he made a decision to go to Diagon Alley instead. 

It was full of shiny, happy people. 

Walking briskly to Diagon Alley, Draco sauntered along the street and paused, stunned to see a vision of ultimate innocence and beauty reclined just a few metres away. 

Ginny Weasley was sitting on a bench outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, her bright red hair glowing in the sunlight. She was eating an ice cream sundae, her face alight with childlike delight. Draco found himself entranced at the sight. 

She looked up and saw him standing there, giving her a most intense, invasive look. She shivered involuntarily. Ever since she'd learned that he was secretly working for The Order of The Phoenix, she had been unable to get him out of her mind. Somewhere along the way, he'd transformed himself in her mind from a bratty, cruel despot into a rather romantic, tragic hero. 

It helped that he was physically stunning, with his flowing blond hair and large silver-coloured eyes. The last time she'd seen him, she'd noticed that he had incredibly long dark lashes framing those gorgeous eyes. In the past, his horrible personality had cancelled out any physical appeal that he may have had, but now . . . 

Now she found him beautiful. 

She looked down at her hands as they began to shake under his intense gaze. He belonged to Hermione. Why on earth was she thinking of him like that? 

He walked over and sat down on the bench next to her. Reaching over, he poked his finger in her ice cream, taking a deep scoop before sensuously licking his finger. Ginny almost fainted at the sight, but instead she snapped at him. 

"That's rude, Malfoy! Didn't anybody ever teach you any manners?" 

"They tried, Weasley. I guess it just never took," he said with a chuckle. His face turned serious. 

"I have reason to believe that Voldemort has sent you a message," he announced abruptly. "Is it true?" 

Ginny didn't dare ask him how he knew of it. She was puzzled, however, because despite Harry's warning, there had been no sign of Voldemort's interest in her. She knew that she was being constantly watched by undercover Aurors, but they were so good at their jobs that Ginny never noticed anybody following her, despite her knowledge that they were there. They were apparently content to keep their distance. 

She shook her head at Draco. "I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't heard anything from that monster." 

Draco gave an inward sigh of relief. Perhaps Voldemort had been lying. 

"Even so, Weasley, I think it best that we go back to your place. It's possible that Voldemort has left a message and you just haven't been around to receive it. Have you been home today?" 

Ginny shook her head again. "I had to work this morning, so I've been gone for hours. What the hell--" Draco had grabbed her arm and pulled her up. 

"Let's go. I need to check your flat." She yanked her arm away but he gave her a look that told her it would be useless to argue. She sighed in resignation as they began walking together towards her flat. 

Draco had been so completely consumed by her presence next to him that at first, it didn't register that his old school chums, Pansy Parkinson and Gregory Goyle were blocking their path, a brood of square-faced, fat children in tow. Goyle had gotten Parkinson knocked up during their final year at Hogwarts and while the thought of it caused Draco unending nausea, he smiled at them politely. Pansy wore the pinched look common to all wives of Death Eaters, as she sniffed at him in distaste. 

"Draco," she screeched. "Whatever on earth are you doing with that Thing?" She pointed an accusing finger at Ginny. Ginny visibly bristled and opened her mouth to properly insult the pug-faced woman. 

"I'm slumming," explained Draco. "Now, if you don't mind, please get out of my way." 

Goyle pressed in closer to Draco. "You're the talk of High Society, these days. Slumming indeed. It's well known that you've been keeping company with Hermione Granger. What's the matter, can't you decide which Gryffindor whore you want?" Almost before he could finish his sentence, Draco had shoved him against the storefront wall of Eeylops Owl Emporium, his wand poised between Goyle's beady little eyes. "You always were an idiot," he hissed. "Don't go poking your fingers where they don't belong. Believe me, I know from experience that they're likely to get bitten off." His voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "There is more to what you see than meets the eye." 

Goyle was certainly thick as a plank, but even he could take the hint. He backed off. 

Ginny eyed Pansy and couldn't resist a dig of her own. "Why Pansy, are you pregnant again?" 

Pansy looked down at herself in confusion. 

"Oh nevermind," said Ginny smugly. "I guess you're just fat." 

Draco roared with exaggerated laughter. Ignoring Pansy's sputtering, they left the Goyles to continue on their way towards Ginny's flat. Draco couldn't resist saying, "Good one, Weasley," out of the corner of his mouth. Ginny grinned. 

It was beginning to feel rather friendly, walking with him. Perhaps that was what was prompting her to ask him a personal question, one she knew she had no business asking. She abruptly stopped walking. 

"I need to ask you something, Malfoy. Promise you'll give me an honest answer?" Draco instantly looked guarded. 

"It depends. You can ask me about my fashion sense and my opinions on wizard literature, but everything else is off limits." 

She glared at him. "It's about Hermione. Are you really in love with her?" 

Draco looked at her in surprise. "Why are you asking?" He raised his eyebrow suggestively. "Do you want a little Malfoy Magic for yourself?" 

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I knew it was pointless to try having a serious conversation with you." She continued to walk and he followed her in silence. 

Once they'd reached her flat, she unlocked the door and they stepped inside. For a moment, Ginny felt embarrassed about her dingy apartment, with its worn furniture and chipped paint. To her surprise and relief, Draco didn't seem to notice. He certainly didn't make any disparaging comments, which astonished her even more. 

Instead, he was frantically looking around her flat for any signs of a message from Voldemort. He turned to Ginny and asked her where her bedroom was. She pointed to the door and without a word, Draco walked into her bedroom. She followed behind him, closely. 

Sitting on her bed was a small, silver box and Ginny let out a startled noise. She walked over to the box and reached to pick it up, but Draco barked, "Don't touch it!" Taking out his wand, he levitated the box and cautiously opened it. 

It was a music box. The tinkling sounds of a melody by Richard Wagner were released when the lid was opened, but instead of a pretty little spinning pixie, this music box held a small, writhing green snake. Ginny recoiled at the sight. 

The snake opened its mouth and hissed in a familiar voice, "Ginny, my love. Surely you remember me from our time together in the Chamber of Secrets? It's me, Tom Riddle." The snake hissed with delight. 

Ginny began to tremble and she backed away from the box. The snake continued, "You remember the feel of my hands upon you as I stroked your silky hair and soft skin, don't you? I certainly remember. I remember how you responded to my touch as I fondled your breasts and your secret places. I can't wait to do it again, now that you're all grown up!" On impulse, Draco blew up the music box and it exploded in a flurry of harsh green sparks. 

Ginny let out an anguished scream. All the secret walls surrounding that incident came tumbling down and now Draco Malfoy knew, of all people! She blindly turned to run away. 

Draco ran after her, calling for her, but she barely heard him. 

He finally caught up with her and swiftly pulled her into his arms before she could take flight out the front door. 

"It's alright," he whispered. "He's not here, he can't hurt you." He continued to hold her tightly. 

Overcome with guilt and shame she clutched at him as she wailed. 

TBC 

**************************************************** 

A/N: I'm sounding like a broken record, but thanks to everyone who has reviewed. I read them all and appreciate your comments. 

Also, just to clear up any potential confusion: Hermione is a witch, born of Muggle parents, but she's NOT a Muggle. If she lost her magical powers, she wouldn't be a squib either, because squibs are born of wizarding parents. You see? ( I had to think about that one!) 

Thanks again to Elizabeth. Once again, her advice is invaluable!   



	20. Chapter 19: Home

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


Just a reminder: The characters belong to JK Rowling. I'm just putting my own twist on things. The plot is mine. 

Rated R for sexual situations and language. Please keep that in mind . . . this is for grown-ups. 

**************************************** 

Confusion never stops, closing walls and ticking clocks   
Gonna come back and take you home, I could not stop, that you now know   
Come out upon my seas, curse missed opportunities   
Am I part of the cure, or am I part of the disease 

You are . . . you are 

And nothing else compares  
Oh no nothing else compares  
And nothing else compares 

You are . . .   
Home, home, where I wanted to go 

~ From the song, "Clocks" by Coldplay 

***************************************** 

Chapter 19: Home 

The dying sun cast soft shadows in the dim light of the bedroom as Severus reached up to snatch a stray candle as it went floating by. Turning to a reclining Hermione, he allowed an evil grin to escape while he tipped the candle towards her, a drop of hot wax landing on her left shoulder blade with a satisfying "plop". She gave him a fake glare and twisted suddenly, thrusting her hips against him. Laughing as a feral growl strayed from his throat, she was soon silenced with a rapturous, blistering kiss. He released the buoyant candle and it joined its companions in the air above them. Severus ran a graceful hand down her back, teasing the ends of her wavy hair as his tongue danced with hers. 

Her distress over the Sentient Healing Ritual was temporarily laid aside while they stroked and caressed each other with total abandonment. He was determined to reassure her, murmuring soft words of love as he worshipped her body with unqualified delight. Their movements became more urgent and he gently turned her over, lifting her up to her knees before entering her suddenly from behind. Hermione gave an audible gasp while he closed his eyes to the onslaught of pleasure that rippled through him. 

For as long as he lived, he would never tire of her, of that he was certain. 

They began making love slowly, almost carefully . . . as if afraid it would end all too soon, but it was a pace they could not maintain. Each savored the feel of the other, prompting a quickening of movements as Severus planted gentle kisses and bites along the back of her neck. Hermione made captivating mewling noises and whimpers, urging him on while his arms tightened around her. He held off for as long as he could and when his passion was finally released, she was right there with him, their cries of completion mingling in the air. 

Breathing heavily, Severus dropped his body to the mattress, pulling Hermione with him. One corner of his mouth curled upwards as he turned to look at her. Sweaty tendrils were plastered to her forehead and he reached to brush them away. 

"You're very noisy, you know," he said with mock disapproval. 

She gave a dainty snort and lifted her head. "You're one to talk." 

His smile widened and Hermione caught her breath. Sometimes his beauty caught her completely off guard and she was assaulted by its sheer salience. What was even more endearing was that he had absolutely no idea how attractive he was. With a rush of emotion, she reached for him, hugging him closely. Severus made a soothing noise as he held her. 

"What's wrong, love?" 

Hermione brushed her lips along his collarbone. "I just want to stay here with you, forever. I don't want to think about what's facing us when I get home." She let a tremor creep into her voice. "I want you with me, especially now," she said simply. 

Severus' face softened. "Are you frightened?" 

She looked at him ruefully. "A little," she said. 

"Me too," he admitted. He couldn't bring himself tell her that he'd always suspected that he wouldn't survive a final battle with Voldemort. It hadn't mattered much to him before. But now . . . 

Now he had everything to live for. 

Hermione looked at him with poignant tenderness, knowing how hard it was for him to admit his fear. When she'd told him everything she knew about the Sentient Healing Ritual, his calmness had surprised her. He'd confidently told her that they'd find a way around things, that he was certain that with all the resources at their disposal, they would figure out a way to make the ritual work for them in The Plan. "Give me a day," he'd said arrogantly. "I already have a few scenarios playing around in my head." He gave her a reassuring smirk. At that moment, it was hard to believe that he was afraid of anyone or anything. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the mantle clock musically ringing out the present time. Severus' eyes didn't move from her face as her image was burned permanently in his mind. 

"It's time for you to go home," he said quietly. Despite her best intentions she felt the prickle of tears, but fiercely willed them back. 

"I know," she sighed as she moved to get up from the bed. Severus pulled her back and kissed her thoroughly as he tried to pour out everything he felt for her . . . everything she meant to him.  
With a strangled sound, Hermione pushed herself away and stood, looking down at him. 

"Don't move," she commanded. "I want to remember you just like this, all sprawled and naked on a clump of rumpled bedsheets." She couldn't help but giggle as he flushed. He tried to glare at her and failed. "You're beautiful," she said with conciliation. "I just want to remember you like this." 

His ego soothed, he complied as he laid back and watched her getting dressed. 

Before she could fasten the last button on her blouse, they were interrupted by the sound of the Headmaster's voice vibrating in the air around them. It was as if it was coming from within the very walls of the bedroom. 

"Severus?" he said tentatively. "Hermione? I'm sorry to interrupt you . . . " 

"Then don't!" shouted the Potions Master as Hermione gave him a disapproving look. 

"Don't mind him, Albus. Actually, I was just getting dress -- erm, getting ready to leave," she said. 

"Well, tell Severus he needs to get dressed too." The Headmaster couldn't hide the amusement in his voice before it sobered. "I'm afraid something has come up and I need to see you both in my office." 

"Is anything wrong, Albus?" Hermione couldn't hide the anxiety from her voice. 

His sigh was like a gentle wind. "I'm not sure yet," he said. "But you need to come immediately. I'm afraid 'a situation' has come up." 

"A situation?" Severus didn't like the sound of that. 

"He means me, Uncle Severus," said a sheepish sounding Draco Malfoy. 

"Bloody hell!" Severus cursed under his breath. 

He didn't like the sound of this at all. 

****************************************** 

Draco fidgeted in his chair. 

He was seated in Dumbledore's office and had just politely declined a piece of dark toffee that the Headmaster had offered him. Albus gave him that annoying twinkling look as Draco shook his head and muttered, "No thank you." The last time he'd indulged in one of Albus' toffee sweeties, it had taken him almost an hour to get his jaws pried open again. For a few horrible moments he'd thought he was going to spend the rest of his life with his mouth clamped permanently shut, left only with the ability to communicate in "mmmmphs" and wild hand gestures. 

He'd almost contemplated suicide at the thought of his tongue forever imprisoned within his mouth. He'd reckoned it would have been a waste of one of his best body parts. 

Albus chose that moment to snort, prompting Draco to give him a worried look. Could the old man really read minds? Chuckling, the Headmaster retrieved the book and called out to Severus and Hermione. 

While Albus spoke with an obviously peeved Uncle Severus, Draco thought back to the events in Ginny Weasley's flat, half an hour ago. 

The music box, with it's sordid revelations, had caught him completely by surprise, but what surprised him even more was that Ginny Weasley had been holding on to this secret for over half of her life. As she spilled her torment to him, he'd resisted the urge to stop her in the only way he knew how . . .but kissing her at a time like this was probably the wrong thing to do. 

Instead, he cupped her face in his hands and pulled her away from him. 

She couldn't meet his gaze as she hiccuped, tears coursing down her face. He leaned forward until the only thing she could see was his resolute and unwavering pale eyes. 

"Ginny," he said softly. "Don't let him do this to you. It's what he's hoping for. He's twisted and sick and none of this . . . I repeat, none of this is your fault." His voice was adamant. "He's just trying to make you feel--" 

Before he had a chance to continue, the door crashed open and a young, pimply faced wizard, ostensibly an auror, came running in with his wand aimed at squarely at Draco. 

"Move away from her!" he shouted dramatically. 

Draco rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You stupid git," he said with a sneer. "Can't you see you've interrupted a 'moment' here?" 

The auror looked a little uncertain. Ginny turned to the younger wizard. "It's alright," she said quietly. "No offense, but I think you should just leave right now." The auror lowered his wand and began to stammer. "I'm s-sorry Miss Weasley. This is only my third assignment and my b-boss told me that if I messed up, he'd hang me by my-- erm . . . " 

He gulped when he saw the look on Malfoy's face. 

Draco couldn't help the seething tone in his voice. "Only your third assignment? Who the hell is running this show? It's Potter, isn't it!" The auror's eyes widened and he shook his head. "No, I was told by Mr. Weasley to look after his sister. Mr. Ron Weasley." 

Draco paused before barking at him again. "Well don't just stand there! Go fetch him, you silly boy!" 

Ginny gave Draco a horrified look. "No!" she shouted. "I don't want him to know!" 

"Trust me on this," Draco said firmly. "You have to tell him." The auror looked confused. Nodding his head towards the door, Draco dispatched him to track down Ron Weasley. 

Sighing, he turned back to Ginny. 

"Where were we?" he asked with feigned nonchalance. "Oh yes, we were talking about Voldemort and how he's trying to make you feel." He raised an inquiring eyebrow. "So? Out with it, Ginny! What are you feeling right now?" 

"I feel . . ." she began, but faltered. She took a deep breath before continuing. "I feel unclean, for lack of a better word. Sullied, dirty, contaminated, defiled, filthy . . . " Her voice trailed off. There was an awkward silence before Draco spoke. 

"You've been reading the thesaurus again, haven't you?" he teased gently. 

Ginny gaped up at him, an array of emotions playing upon her face. She searched his features for some sign that he was repelled, but instead found him openly smiling at her. 

"You're joking with me? After what you've just learned? Are you completely mad?" 

Draco shrugged. "I'm not trying to downplay what he did to you, but frankly, he's done much worse." He reached up and gently brushed a tear away with his thumb. "I don't know what you expected from me, Ginny, but what happened to you 13 years ago does not define who you are now. Besides, Harry told me that Tom Riddle was only a 'memory' while he was in The Chamber of Secrets. The bastard wasn't even real and whatever he did to you probably came from a Dark spell. I do know that Voldemort is a complete pervert and to let him affect your life like this is to let him win." 

His voice lowered to a whisper. "Don't let him win, Ginny. Don't reward him with your torment. It's as simple as that." 

They stared at each other for a long moment until they were interrupted by shouting. 

"Ginny? Are you alright?" The door crashed open for a second time, revealing a worried looking Ron Weasley. He stopped short when he saw Ginny standing close to Malfoy. The redhead's eyes narrowed as he studied them. 

"You'd better have a good explanation for this, Malfoy. Townsend just informed me that he heard my sister screaming and when he arrived, she was crying." He menacingly stepped forward. "You're not making my sister cry, are you?" 

"As if I had that power," Draco said, so softly that Ron didn't hear him. He turned to give the Gryffindor a scathing look. 

"I suggest you take your righteous indignation and bugger off ," Draco said harshly. To Ginny he asked, "Are you going to be alright? I can stay if you want." Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Ginny cut him off. 

"It's alright Draco, you don't need to stay. But you're right, I need to tell him everything. I should have done it a long time ago." 

Nodding, Draco began moving out the door. Pausing to give Ron a considering look, he said, "Don't disappoint me. For once in your life, be an adult. Take her home to The Furrow--" 

"The Burrow, you stupid sod." 

"Whatever, you manky bollock. Just take her home." 

Draco waltzed out the door without a second glance. 

***************************************** 

There was complete silence in the room while Severus made small, irritated noises in the back of his throat. His head was bent and he pinched the bridge of his nose with unbridled annoyance. 

"Say something, Uncle." Draco was sitting next to the Potions Master and was desperate for a reaction, any reaction. 

Severus suddenly shot a hand out and his fingers wrapped around Draco's throat. He hadn't even turned his head. 

"Do shut up, you stupid boy. I'm trying to think." 

Hermione sat stunned at what Draco had just told them. How could he? How could he be so foolish? 

He'd just confessed that he'd told the Dark Lord everything. Well, maybe not everything, but certainly enough. 

She drew a shaky breath. When she and Severus went through the portal into Albus' office, Draco had been sitting on the edge of a chair, an apprehensive look on his face. But when he saw Hermione, he'd given her a huge, knowing grin and had winked at her. It was completely endearing and knowing how he'd helped her win over Severus, she'd exclaimed, "Draco!" before launching herself into his laughing embrace. 

Now she just wanted to cast an Instant Scalping Hex on him. 

Draco hung his head. He knew it was going to be hard to tell them what he'd done, but the look of shock and disappointment on Severus' face was almost more than he could bear. He truly didn't care what anybody else thought of him, but Severus was the one person on Earth whose respect he'd craved. He was pretty certain that he'd blown it. His uncle would never speak to him again. 

A heavy sense of loss blanketed over him. 

Albus, however, was his usual conciliatory and soothing self. He broke the silence by saying, "All is not lost. Mr. Malfoy has left us some wriggle room, so to speak. Voldemort still doesn't know that Severus is alive and he certainly doesn't know that young Draco here has confessed all to us." He looked at them and smiled. 

"This could prove to be the best thing that could have happened." 

Three heads lifted to give him an incredulous look. They were all familiar with Dumbledore's quaint eccentricities, but to say this was for 'the best' was a new standard in loopiness, even for Albus.  
The Headmaster just looked at them calmly before he spoke again. 

"The key to a good battle strategy is to stay a step ahead of your enemy. While Voldemort may know of the Shattering Potion and Spell, he is not aware of our information regarding the Sentient Healing Ritual. That is where we start." 

Severus scowled. "I don't see--" 

The Headmaster got up to pace slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. Behind him, various magical items twittered and twirled, and an occasional brief surge of colorful magic would streak near his head. He smiled at them indulgently before he spoke. 

"Let's start with what we know . . . we know that the Dark Lord has a book that will reveal the ritual aspects of Sentient Healing. We know that he keeps it with him always. It's obvious that we need to know everything about the ritual to come up with a proper plan. Hence, the most logical thing would be for us to simply go to Voldemort to get the book." 

He laughed at the collective rolling of the eyes in the room. 

Severus tried to keep the derision out of his voice, but he opted for sarcasm instead. "Why the hell didn't I think of that?" 

Albus kept a straight face. "Indeed, Severus. Why didn't you? Voldemort thinks you're dead. You're in the perfect position to sneak into his hideout and at the very least, perform a Duplicating Spell on the book. We could get our own copy." 

Suddenly something clicked in Hermione's mind. "Tomorrow evening!" she proclaimed suddenly. The three wizards turned simultaneously to look at her. She shrugged her shoulders. 

"Draco is supposed to take me to see the Dark Lord tomorrow evening. I seem to remember a certain Potions Master being all concerned about tracking me when the time came. Do you remember the Tracking Charm that Professor Flitwick developed?" 

Severus nodded mutely. Hermione could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. 

"Yes, we will be able to track the two of you tomorrow," he said slowly. "And while Voldemort thinks that I'm dead, there is another thing he knows nothing of." 

With those words, he stood up, lifting Hermione to her feet as well. He inhaled deeply and in a blink, he was transformed as she'd first seen him in London. 

A long black snake was draped over her shoulder. He twined himself around her neck and lifted his head to flick a long forked tongue in her ear, before nuzzling it. Hermione playfully scrunched her neck, the gooseflesh rising. 

"Kinky," blurted Draco, before he could stop himself. Albus' laugh echoed off the walls. 

"Perfect," he said. He impulsively began stroking his snow white beard. 

"This has given me an idea." 

************************************************************ 

Ginny found that coming home to The Burrow was probably one of the better things to come out of the "Voldemort-Sent-Me-A-Perverse-Music-Box" Incident. Molly had clucked over her and waited on her hand and foot, stuffing food into her until her stomach could take no more. She never asked Ginny what it was that was obviously bothering her, certain that it would straighten itself out once she'd been fed a good hot meal and was tucked safely in her old room. In the end, being around Mum had been the best medicine. 

It was wrenching, but she found that telling Ron about Tom Riddle wasn't as hard as she thought it would be. 

He'd listened impassively, no interruptions, no shouts, and no promises of vengeance. He was very quiet when she'd finished and when he finally spoke, it was in even, measured tones. 

"Why did you feel that you couldn't come to me with this? I could have helped." 

Ginny jerked away from him. "You were twelve years old when it happened, Ron. You were a total git, if you'll recall. What do you think you would have done, had you known?" 

Ron looked shamefaced. "I would have obsessed about it. I would have driven Hermione and Harry to distraction with talk of getting even, of making Voldemort pay for what he'd done to you. I would have managed to remind you of the incident every time you looked into my eyes." 

He sighed. 

"If it helps at all, I think I understand you now. I could never figure out why you threw yourself at Harry, knowing that he didn't feel about you the same way about you that you felt for him. I suppose you thought that Harry's love could erase what had happened in The Chambers of Secrets. The irony is that you were never able to move on." He looked at her with consideration. 

"Do you think you'll be able to move on now?" 

Ginny told him truthfully, "I don't know right now. The only thing I know is that I feel like a heaviness has been lifted. I suppose it's the first step." 

They'd sat on the porch swing in silence for a long time after that. 

After Ron had finally bid her a sleepy goodnight, she'd stayed on, swinging slowly, the springs squeaking out a comforting rhythm in the quiet night. She'd stared at the full moon and had been so lost in her thoughts that she didn't see Harry approaching her on the porch. 

"Hello, Ginny," he said quietly. His dark hair was in its usual glorious disorder and he suddenly looked like the little boy she'd known all those years ago in Hogwarts. "Do you mind if I sit with you for a while?" Ginny shook her head as he sat next to her. 

Neither said a word at first, until Harry cleared his throat and said suddenly, "I know about Voldemort. I know what he did to you your first year." 

Ginny started in surprise. Before she could retort, Harry continued. "I need for you to understand something. After the battle with Voldemort our sixth year, he told me about what had really happened in The Chamber of Secrets, before I found you. It was after he'd kidnapped me from the Dursleys. First he drugged me then he tortured me with the lurid details, laughing as I cried like a little baby. After it was over, I thought that if I never thought about it again, if I never mentioned what I knew, it would be as if it had never happened. I was so wrong." 

He looked discomfited. 

Ginny just stared at him in mortification. For once, Harry was sensitive to her feelings as he added, "I never blamed you, Ginny. I never thought it was something you did, or that it had been something that you'd wanted. I just simply didn't know what to say to you. So instead, I said nothing. When that auror, Townsend, broke into your house, I was standing at the door with my invisibility cloak. I heard you talking to Draco and I realized that he knew about the Chambers of Secrets. I must admit that he said everything to you that I wish I could have told you years ago." He smiled ruefully. "He's full of surprises, that one." He didn't add that he'd felt a horrible pang of jealousy at the sight of Draco Malfoy gently brushing her tears away. He'd been standing entirely too close to her, in Harry's estimation. 

Ginny remained silent and stunned. She'd figured that nothing could surprise her after what she'd experienced today. Harry reached out to touch her arm, but she pulled away from him, as if burned. He thought his heart was going to break. 

"I know I was wrong, and I've probably screwed things all up, but I wanted you to know that you don't have to hide it anymore," he said quietly. "I just want you to find some peace with all this. I promised you that I'd stay away and I will. I have only one hope for us when this is all over . . . besides survival, that is. I hope that once Voldemort is dead, we can both be free, free to love and free to go after whatever brings us happiness. That thought is the only thing that keeps me going." 

She noticed that he was finally looking at her as if he was truly seeing her . . . as if for the first time. 

Harry took a deep breath. "And when it's over, I'll spend the rest of my life making you forget that Tom Riddle ever existed, if you'll let me." 

She couldn't hide the astonishment on her face. 

"I won't give up on us, Ginny," he said vehemently. "I finally know what it's like to live without you and I've never been more miserable in all my life." 

Ginny couldn't believe what he was saying. She began to stammer, but he stopped her. "In case you're wondering, all those women I've been photographed with are just a front. I thought that if I completely and publicly severed all ties with you, you'd be safe. I don't think that's true anymore. The only time you'll truly be safe is when Voldemort is dead. And I intend to see to it." 

Ginny got up from the porch swing and walked to the railing, staring out into the untidy Weasley vegetable garden. She was struck dumb for a few moments before finding her voice. "I don't know what to say to you, Harry. It's too much to take in right now. I need time." 

Harry nodded. "Take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere." He couldn't know at the time that he would live to regret those words. 

When she turned back to him, he was gone. 

She stayed on the porch, mulling over everything he'd said, dumbfounded at all that had just transpired. She didn't notice the Black Falcon that was perched on the willow tree out in the garden, his pale blue eyes narrowed with an almost human-like satisfaction. Only a true bird-aficionado would know that he was actually native to Australia. 

He'd been watching her for two days. 

TBC 

************************************************ 

Author's Note: Since it's been a while since I updated, I wanted to get this chapter out as soon as possible. It hasn't been beta-read, so I hope you all excuse any mistakes. I'm sure I'll be correcting the things I notice in the next couple of days. 

Thanks again to all who review! I love you guys! 


	21. Chapter 20: Comrades

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


A/N: I'm sorry I've taken so long to update . . . my real life was interfering! I assure you that the next chapter will not take as long. 

With regard to the poem below, "camerado" is Spanish for "companion" or "comrade", which is the theme of this chapter. 

******************* 

I heed not, and have never heeded, either experience, cautions, majorities, nor ridicule;  
And the threat of what is call'd hell is little or nothing to me,   
And the lure of what is call'd heaven is little or nothing to me;   
Dear camerado! I confess I have urged you onward with me, and still   
urge you, without the least idea what is our destination,   
Or whether we shall be victorious, or utterly quell'd and defeated. 

~ From the poem, "As I Lay With My Head in Your Lap, Camerado" by Walt Whitman 

******************** 

Chapter 20: Comrades 

  
"Uncle Severus." 

Silence. 

"Please." 

Silence. 

"Talk to me." 

"If you insist. Fuck off." 

A low growl. "I don't deserve that from you." 

A harsh sigh and an irritated wave of the hand. 

Draco tried again. "If anything, we need to resolve this here and now. I'm taking the love of your life into the snake pit tomorrow night. I'd prefer it if you'd just spew your vindictive load of crap at me now, so I can move on to concentrate on getting us both out alive." 

Albus chuckled. "He has a point, Severus. Just hear him out. In the meantime, I have to consult with Professor Flitwick about the Tracking Charm. I trust that you two will behave yourselves when I'm gone? I don't need to confiscate wands, do I?" He paused. "Oh dear . . . I forgot," he said absently. "Severus doesn't need a wand." Draco swallowed a lump in his throat. 

Severus gave the Headmaster a baleful look, but grunted, "I'll let him live," as Albus made preparation for his meeting with Filius. 

Hermione had long since departed, allowing Draco and Severus to "duke it out", as it were. She could feel the tension between them, and the Headmaster had wisely suggested that she take a break from their scheming and planning to go take a walk on the grounds. She'd ambled over to Severus, and despite the audience, he took her hand and pressed it to his lips, murmuring that he'd see her later. She longed to give him a hard, thorough kiss, but didn't dare. He stared at the door after she left and seemed oblivious to the presence of the Headmaster and the Heir of Malfoy. That is, until said heir had the audacity to speak first. 

"It's just you and me now. Bring it on, Uncle." 

Severus growled as he leapt from his chair and began pacing in front of the fireplace. 

"How could you be so utterly and hopelessly stupid? Have you learned nothing from me?" His voice was a strident bellow. "Of all the incredibly short-sighted, dimwitted things you could have done, this is the worst!" He shook his head in disgust at his nephew. 

Draco felt himself shake with anger, but he carefully gathered it to himself before retorting. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet with rage. "Do you want to talk about stupid and dimwitted? How stupid is it that you believed Taryn Butler was lusting after you and that she wanted to sleep with you? You never questioned it, did you? You fell for it like a total and complete fool!" he sneered. Severus looked mortified. It was apparent that Draco could give as good as he got. The younger wizard continued, "If she hadn't been successfully spying on you in the first place, my father would never have found out about my betrayal. Perhaps we can start there." He arched an arrogant eyebrow. 

"He's has a point, Severus," the Headmaster couldn't help but interject again. 

"Is that all you can say? I thought you were leaving!" he snapped back, as Albus grinned. 

The Potions Master turned his narrowed eyes on Draco. "Insufferable boy," he thought, before quickly amending that assessment. Draco was a man now and Severus suddenly realized that he'd been guilty of treating him as if nothing had changed in the years since he'd left Hogwarts. Indeed, right now the hurt little boy was showing through. 

"I was never good enough for you, was I, Uncle Severus?" 

Severus couldn't help but start in surprise. Those were the very same words he'd hurled at his father over twenty years ago. He stared at his nephew as the young man stood with a proud tilt to his chin. It was pure, unadulterated Malfoy. Several thousand years of careful breeding had produced that chin and Severus felt his rage cooling as he looked at him. 

Really looked at him. 

Despite the risk of scorn and ridicule, Draco had come to him with the truth. He had risked everything for The Cause: his name, his money, his honor, his family and his very life, yet at this moment, he wanted nothing more than the forgiveness of a nasty, mean-tempered pseudo-uncle. In a sudden flash, Severus Snape was humbled as he felt his anger completely drain away. Despite his obvious proud bearing, the look on Malfoy's face was heartbreaking, as if he were about to lose everything that meant anything to him. 

Severus knew the feeling well. 

The Potions Master felt something give within him. His father had been an unforgiving man and in Severus' estimation, a total rotter. For a brief moment, he saw himself in the young wizard. He saw the need for approval, the need to show himself worthy, that he wasn't a total failure despite his many mistakes. Severus' father had turned his back on him and in his rage and despair, he'd turned to Voldemort for solace. It had damned near ruined his life. He'd come out of it damaged and totally alone. Until Draco Malfoy came along and brought a focus into Severus' life, he'd been drifting . . . wallowing in self-pity. The boy had given him a raison d'etre. Turning Draco from a sullen little brat into a cunning, polished spy had been one of Severus' highest priorities. It was the only way to save him. 

Draco was his family now. 

For the first time ever, Severus really felt that connection. Draco could sense the change in his uncle as the older man gave him a look he'd never seen before. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn that the look was tinged with true fondness, maybe even love, if he squinted a bit. 

No, it couldn't be. 

Severus sighed. "I'm very angry with you, Draco. Not so much that you took it upon yourself to alter our plan, but because you didn't come to me right away." 

"How could I, Severus? I was ashamed . . . ashamed that I couldn't come up with something better when Lucius confronted me at the Manor. And let's face it, you're a fearsome, hypercritical bastard." 

Severus couldn't help but emit a small chuckle. "Perhaps you are right. There have been enough mistakes made on all our parts, myself included. I apologize for treating you with disrespect. It's true that you don't deserve it. As Albus said, we'll just have to deal with this." 

Draco looked stunned, but wisely kept his mouth shut. 

Severus continued pacing restlessly. "I have to trust you, Draco. I have no choice really, but I would like to think that my trust is more than just a leap of faith. I have to know, I mean really know that you won't do anything to put Hermione in harm's way. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that." 

Draco slowly walked over to where Severus was standing. In truth, he was only a few centimetres shorter than his uncle, although with his spare frame, the Potions Master had always seemed to tower over the younger wizard. 

Looking Severus straight in the eye, Draco said simply, "I would die for Hermione. She is the best friend I've ever had. I'd love her in her own right, as a brother, but because she means so much to you, I love her even more." 

It was the closest he'd ever come to telling Severus Snape how he felt about him. In all honesty, Severus was the father he'd always wished for, Lucius be damned. 

And Severus understood this as he nodded and locked eyes with his nephew. He finally said the one thing that Draco had always longed for. 

"I trust you, Draco . . . completely. And tomorrow I'm trusting you with my life. I don't believe you'll let me down." 

He patted Malfoy on the arm and said quickly, "I have to go. And by the way, you're wrong about not being good enough. I'm very proud of you." Then he practically ran from the room. 

Draco was inwardly grinning. 

The Potions Master was fleeing in the face of too much sap. 

***************************** 

Relax already! 

Deep breath in . . . hold it, hold it . . . 

Slowly exhale . . . 

Feel the release of tension from your body . . . 

That's it . . . that's it . . . 

The small feminine figure hunkered down on a lone bench, pale bluish moonlight shining on the smoky puff of frozen breath she'd just exhaled. Wrapping her cloak around herself even tighter, she quelled her shaking fingers, taking in deep, gulping breaths of air. Her heart was pounding and she could feel a cold trickle of sweat as it ran down the back of her neck. She was grappling with a racing mind, seemingly unable to catch her breath. 

Hermione was having her own private little panic attack. 

She was facing the archetypal bogeyman, the summation of all her childhood fears. However, as was evident from previous encounters, he was as real as flesh and blood. Harry Potter could certainly attest to that. The Dark Lord was far more dangerous than anything she could have cooked up in her imagination, most certainly. 

Why? Why did so much have to rest upon her? In the past, it had been all about Harry Potter and she'd only been at the periphery of the fight. But now she was at the center of the vortex and she was extremely uncomfortable in her new role. 

Hermione heard the sounds of crunching grass behind her as she sat in quiet but shaky contemplation. She didn't even turn her head as she knew who it was. 

"Hermione?" Draco asked softly. 

His real question was left momentarily unasked. 

She turned to him and was struck by how lonely he looked, standing in the clearing of trees. The moonlight gave him an otherworldly glow and for a moment he appeared as a ghost. His voice carried across the courtyard. 

"Forgive me?" 

She stood and walked over to him slowly. Draco held himself in total stillness, wondering if she was going to slap him. Instead, she wordlessly gathered him into a big bear hug as he sagged against her with relief. 

He pulled back and smiled. "You're a lot easier than Severus." He paused for effect. 

"Sucker." 

Hermione gave him a playful shove. "I suppose I am. I should be absolutely furious with you, and in fact, I was. That is, before I started thinking about what's in store for us tomorrow. Then I was just paralyzed by fear." 

Draco took her hand, noting the tremors, and brought her back to the bench. He pulled her down to sit, but held tightly to her hand. Hermione could literally feel herself becoming more grounded as he spoke to her. 

"Deep breaths, Hermione," he soothed. "I've been dealing with Voldemort for years. I wouldn't underestimate him, but don't overestimate him either. While he's powerful and smart, he's also vain and petty. He has weaknesses and he's not the almighty god that he wants us to think he is. I truly believe he can be defeated, love. His arrogance blinds him. Just remember that Voldemort thrives on intimidation and terror, so whatever you do, don't succumb to it. Perhaps it would help if you imagined him in his knickers." 

Hermione let out a delighted whoop. 

Draco grinned before turning serious. "We've gone over the plan repeatedly. The most important thing we need to convey is that you are madly in love with me and would do anything to keep me. That won't be much of a stretch," he added arrogantly. She poked him in the ribs. "Seriously, he's got to believe that we've bonded and so we have. There's no acting involved here. Just let your sisterly love for me shine through and I'll take it from there," he smiled. "You're too important to Voldemort, so he's not a mortal threat to you tomorrow. I promised Severus that I wouldn't let anything happen to you and I won't." He squeezed her hand in reassurance. 

They sat in companionable silence before Hermione spoke again. 

"I feel loads better. You have a way of making a girl feel very safe. I'd exploit that quality if I were you." 

Draco gave her a beaming look. "Only if you play matchmaker . . . I'm afraid I'm a lonely boy with no prospects." He hung his head in mock despair. 

"Do you have anyone in mind?" 

Draco shook his head quickly. Too quickly. Hermione narrowed her eyes. 

"Spill it, Malfoy." 

Draco gave her a conspiratorial look. "Only if you promise not to tell." 

Hermione giggled. This could be positively juicy. "I promise, now out with it before I explode!" 

Draco looked around furtively and lowered his voice. 

"Tell me about Ginny Weasley." 

"Oh shit," exclaimed Hermione, in surprise. 

Draco's face immediately closed down. "Forget I said that." He looked away, scarlet with embarrassment. 

Hermione immediately regretted her outburst. "Look, I'm sorry. I just wasn't expecting it, that's all. So, are you telling me that you're interested in Ginny Weasley? That's . . erm . . . it's rather--" 

"Complicated?" 

"That's it, exactly." 

Draco snorted. "Why? Because of Potter?" he asked scornfully. "Look, I respect Potter as an Auror and a 'Fighter of Evil', but really, Hermione . . . he's been absolutely appalling to her. I know you're a forgiving sort of lass, but he's . . . " 

Hermione interrupted him. "I didn't even think you knew Ginny Weasley." 

"Well, I don't really. She's a . . . well, she's a Weasley for Merlin's sake!" He curled up his nose as if a house elf had just passed wind. "Why the hell would I know her? I've had a couple of interactions with her and I find her interesting, that's all." 

"All this because she's 'interesting'?" 

"Well, that and the fact that she has a gorgeous pair of luscious--" 

"Draco!" 

"I was going to say 'kneecaps'. She has a gorgeous pair of luscious kneecaps. Really, Hermione! Get your mind out of the gutter!" 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You were not going to say, 'kneecaps', you little wanker!" She noted the smirk on Draco's face and started laughing. When she finally stopped, she spoke seriously. 

"For years the only people I could really depend on for anything were Ron and Harry. And now . . . now I have you and Severus. It's amazing, given our past, but I really love you, you know? I came out here feeling very badly and you make me believe that everything is going to work out. I'm not hyperventilating anymore." 

"I'm glad to hear it. Everything will be fine." If he had any uncertainty, he didn't show it. 

Hermione shook her head. "And while I can't talk to you about Harry and Ginny as it would be the worst betrayal, I'll say this: Harry hurt Ginny very badly, it's true. I love him but-" she bit her lip, before changing what she was going to say. "Ginny deserves to be a man's first priority. Let's just say that she's never experienced that before. I know what it feels like to be at the centre of someone's universe and there's nothing that can compare to it. If I thought that you might possibly be serious and might possibly have her best interests at heart, then I would support any efforts you might give to sweeping her off her feet. But I'm not so sure this isn't about Harry Potter rather than about Ginny Weasley. So, I'll reserve judgment for now." 

"A ringing endorsement, if ever I heard one," he said dryly. 

"It will have to do, for now. Although, you and Ginny would make beautiful babies . . . " 

"Ergh." 

"I thought so." 

*********************************** 

The following night came entirely too soon in Hermione's opinion, but she was rather gratified to see the students of Hogwarts bustling through the halls in sweet disregard as she made her way to Albus Dumbledore's office. Severus and Draco were already there. 

"Are you ready?" asked the Headmaster, as he surveyed the three figures before him. They looked at him readily and nodded in unison. Hermione turned to gaze at Severus and her carefully schooled impassivity slipped a bit, her apprehension clearly apparent on her face. As he had done the night before, he reached for her hand and kissed it. 

Draco drew out his pocket timepiece. "We've got fifteen minutes before we're supposed to meet with the Death Eaters at The Shrieking Shack." He looked up at Hermione. "We can do this," he added confidently. 

Hermione thought back on the past twenty-four hours. After going back to the Headmaster's office and finalizing their plan, Hermione had begged Severus and Albus to allow her to spend one more night at the hunting lodge. Her lover had hesitated, but the Headmaster had readily agreed, saying that it would probably help calm her nerves. They needed her to be completely cool-headed. She and Severus had spent the night curled around each other, and despite her anxiety, she'd slept very peacefully. Before she left him the following morning, they'd happily made love again. 

By the time they were set to leave, Hermione felt ready to face anything. 

A timid knock was heard on the door and Albus opened it to allow Filius Flitwick to enter the room. Despite his appearance, the diminutive professor was a powerful wizard in his own right. His gift for dueling was legendary and he was absolutely fearless in battle, or so Hermione had heard. The fierce warrior looked up at them and squeaked, "Off to the snake's lair, are you? A more resolute bunch I've yet to see, discounting the infamous Dream Team, of course." Severus glowered at the reminder of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. They'd been the bane of his existence for seven years, not to mention the danger they'd put Hermione in as a student. The last thing his frayed nerves needed was to be reminded of her dangerous past with Voldemort. 

Hermione gave Flitwick a weak smile. "We're ready, sir." 

Filius looked pointedly at Snape. "Aren't you forgetting something, Severus?" 

Severus harrumphed before transforming himself into a black adder. Filius chuckled in glee and clapped his hands together. "I might have known, Severus. You're positively fatal!" The snake gave him a dismissive look and Filius suppressed another grin before instructing them on the Charm. Hermione bent to pick up Severus and he twined himself around her left arm. 

"You won't feel a thing, of course, and the Charm is completely traceless," said Professor Flitwick. "Our original experiments involved Albus here, and I'm afraid I played a little trick on the Headmaster. I told him that the charm had been terminated, when in fact, I'd allowed it to continue." 

Albus nodded his head. "It's true, I had absolutely no idea. It wasn't until Filius appeared suddenly during my picnic in the Forbidden Forest that I realized I was still under the spell. I'm just thankful he didn't catch me in a compromising position with one of the local wood faeries." 

He laughed outright at the horrified looks on everyone's faces. "I assure you, I'm only teasing," Albus said mirthfully, obviously greatly amused. Draco, in particular, couldn't hold back a shudder and sigh of relief. 

Professor Flitwick waved his wand and began the incantation. Hermione felt a slight tingling around the back of her head, but it was gone in an instant. She was rather disappointed at the lack of "flashiness" of the spell, then it suddenly occurred to her that of course, that was the whole point of the spell: It was a traceless tracking charm and flashiness was to be avoided at all costs. After Filius assured the trio that the charm was in place, they set out for Hogsmeade. 

Albus and Filius stayed behind to peer into a clear quartz ball, where the images of the three were clearly evident. 

The night was an identical twin to the evening before, with bright moonlight and clear, quiet air. The only sounds were that of Hermione and Draco's footsteps as they walked with clasped hands towards the outskirts of Hogsmeade. 

"Severus, you're driving me to distraction!" she whispered harshly. 

The only answer was a sensuous movement between her breasts. She had magically sewn a secret pocket inside the front of her robes, where the thick folds would hide any outline of the residing serpent. Instead of resting there quietly, Severus had chosen to slither out of his hiding place to flick delighted little strokes of his tongue in places that were beginning to preoccupy her. 

"I don't even want to know," muttered Draco. 

As The Shrieking Shack loomed closer, Draco noticed two figures coming out from behind a tree. He moved closer to Hermione. "Show-time, my darling," he whispered, as he nuzzled close to her ear. 

"Stay where you are," growled a Death Eater, who was shaped suspiciously like Gregory Goyle. Draco was relieved at the Dark Lord's choice of minion in this instant. Gregory Goyle was as pig-ignorant as they came. He felt himself relaxing. 

The other one, however, looked at them shrewdly through the slits of his mask. This one made Draco a little uneasy. He spoke quietly and Draco was a little dismayed that he did not recognize the voice. 

"Dr. Granger . . . could you please move forward, away from Mr. Malfoy?" 

Hermione stepped forward as the man's wand shot out from behind his robe. Draco was startled, but reacted quickly, stepping in front of her. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Do you know who I am?" he asked with outraged arrogance. 

"I'm sorry, sir. Our Lord ordered that I search her before we Apparate." 

Hermione prayed that Severus was thinking fast. Her mind was whirling, but struck by a sudden inspiration, she moved backwards towards the tree, pretending to be frightened. 

"Is this going to be painful?" she stalled. She could feel Severus quickly winding his way down her body, until he was finally wrapped around her ankle. She discreetly extended her foot behind her body as he slid to the ground and slithered like a shot to a spot behind the tree. 

"No ma'am. It will only take a moment." The Death Eater ran his wand over her robes as she stood completely still. Draco had his own wand obviously perched in his pocket, ready for quick action should the cheeky bastard try anything funny. 

Once the Death Eater had been satisfied, he nodded to Goyle. "No surprises, here. It's time to Apparate," he said. Hermione's heart was pounding as Goyle reached over to clutch her upper arms. 

Then she felt him, slithering up her left leg, quick as lightening. It took all of her concentration, all of her will-power not to scream when she felt Severus hasten around her ankle . She resisted the urge to squirm as he ascended her leg. 

"Thank you, Nimue," she said silently as they Apparated, with Severus Snape firmly coiled around her. 

In a blink of an eye, they were gone. 

*************************************** 

A/N: I know I'm interrupting the action here, but there was no way to get everything in without dividing the chapter. I promise an update soon! 

Thank you, Elizabeth, for all of your feedback. You're a wonderful beta-reader! 


	22. Chapter 21: Fooled

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


Disclaimer: The usual: I don't own it, I'm only giving the characters something to do until the next book comes out. 

Rated R for language and sexual situations. 

I'd also like to take this opportunity to thank all my reviewers. Your support inspires me to do my best! 

On to the story: 

*************************** 

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution  
Take a bow for the new revolution  
Smile and grin at the change all around  
Pick up my guitar and play  
Just like yesterday  
Then I'll get on my knees and pray  
We don't get fooled again 

~From the song, "Won't Get Fooled Again" by The Who 

************************* 

Chapter 21: Fooled 

  
It took Hermione a few moments to reorient herself to her surroundings. They'd Apparated to a bluff overlooking the ocean and the first thing she noticed was the fierce wind penetrating her thin wool cloak. Even the moonlight was cold and the waves of the ocean crashed against the craggy rocks in harsh blasts, spreading the spray like icy sunflares. 

She felt Severus tighten his coil around her waist, rubbing his head affectionately against her abdomen. She had to suppress the urge to stroke him back. 

She shivered and looked around quickly for Draco. He and the other Death Eater had appeared only a few metres away and she reached for him, wanting to touch him for reassurance. As if sensing her trepidation, he moved to her quickly, grabbing her hand and squeezing it tightly. His eyes looked calm and dauntless and she felt her jitters calming immediately. She chuckled inwardly. 

Who would have thought, even six months ago, that she'd feel so safe with Draco Malfoy as he was leading her to a secret meeting with the Dark Lord? It was unbelievable. 

Goyle grunted, "Follow me," and they made their way down a narrow path to a dilapidated small cottage perched against a small hill. There was a lantern in one of the windows and smoke was coming from the chimney, signaling it's occupancy. Hermione's gut contracted, but she remembered everything Draco had told her and she knew that she was going to have to give the performance of her life. 

Draco whispered to her as they walked. "I believe we're somewhere in northern England . . . the terrain seems to fit." Hermione nodded. "I spotted the North Star and we're somewhere on the West Coast, I'd say." Goyle turned and gave them a suspicious look over his shoulder, silencing them both. 

The door automatically opened as they approached the cottage, as if the timing of their arrival had been precisely calculated. Once they stepped inside, Hermione was amazed at the opulence of the place. It was small but elegant and she realized that the exterior was meant to belie the obvious wealth of the occupant. Voldemort was nothing if not vain and while he had to hide himself in inconsequential, rickety little dwellings, it was clear that he wanted to surround himself with all the comforts that galleons could buy. 

They were led to a small parlour where an amazingly warm fire was burning and a small House Elf asked them for their cloaks. Hermione eyed him with incredulity, but Draco just nonchalantly dropped his cloak on the poor creature. Hermione scowled at Draco and he gave her a dazzling smile. The House Elf emerged from under the garment and levitated it with ease. As Hermione shrugged off her cloak, she held it up for the little elf to levitate it. Once the task was completed, he walked briskly from the room, both cloaks floating behind him. 

Severus began to uncoil himself with speed, careful not to cause a shift in her robes. He managed to slide down her leg and quickly dart under a chair. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. 

So far, so good. 

Hermione and Draco stood awkwardly, wondering what they should do next, when Voldemort appeared at the doorway. He briefly leaned on the frame, before tottering through the door, hunching as he walked unsteadily. Draco stepped forward to help, but the Dark Lord waved him off, managing to drop heavily into a chair before gesturing to two other chairs. One chair was across a small table from Voldemort, the other was closer to the fire. Hermione chose the chair next to the hunched creature, who smiled weakly at her. He looked positively grotesque. 

"You're a brave soul, Dr. Granger," he rasped. He reached over to take her hand rather delicately, before placing a dry kiss on her knuckles. His touch was icy cold and Hermione squelched the reflexive need to snatch her hand away. Instead, she held herself very still, giving him a small smile. 

"It's not so much bravery as it is curiosity, my Lord. I'm still rather unsure as to why I'm here." 

"Ah, curiosity! You know what the Muggles say about that. I suppose if I give you satisfaction, you'll come back?" His smile looked like a grimace. 

"Something like that." Hermione curled her lips in a subtle grin. No need to overdo it. She   
looked at Draco affectionately and her grin widened involuntarily. His silver eyes radiated adoration. 

This did not escape Voldemort's notice. As if sensing that the Dark Lord's attention had wandered, Severus poked his head out from under the chair, Voldemort's view of him blocked behind the drape of Hermione's robe. 

He was on his own now. 

The resident House Elf chose that moment to make an appearance with a tray. Delicate china cups and an elegant teapot were perched on top. "Leave it on the table," Voldemort said in a bored tone. Hermione asked the Dark Lord if he would like some tea. At his nod, she gracefully poured it in a cup and handed to him. She lifted her eyes to Draco, who shook his head. She filled another cup and brazenly drank a sip before the Dark Lord could even lift his cup to his thin lips. He looked at her with disapproval. "You're rather trusting, Dr. Granger. I don't recall gullibility being one of your traits," he said with a sneer. 

"No, but logic is, my Lord. You have no reason to poison me at this point as I have information that I know you want to hear." 

"Interesting," murmured Voldemort, his gaze flicking to Draco and back again to Hermione. "I understand from Mr. Malfoy that the two of you have formed a love match. Is it true, Dr. Granger? Do you love him?" 

"Oh yes," she said breathlessly, keeping her eyes squarely on Draco. "He's the most amazing man I've ever known. He's completely changed my life." Draco's eyes positively sparkled. "Nice touch," she thought. "He's really good at this." 

"And how do your friends feel about that?" Voldemort leaned forward to stare into her eyes. 

"My friends?" she asked scornfully. "You mean Harry and Ron? Well, they're unsurprisingly against us. Not that it concerns me anymore. I can't believe they care so little for my happiness considering everything we've been through," she added bitterly. 

The Dark Lord narrowed his glowing eyes, as if piercing her very mind. Hermione looked back at him steadily and arched her eyebrow. 

"Surely Draco has told you my feelings on the subject of war. My personal opinion is that this is less about vengeance and righteousness and more about Harry wanting to be a hero." 

Voldemort narrowed his eyes further. "My understanding is that Harry Potter hates the limelight. It makes the stupid boy uncomfortable." 

Hermione leaned towards him and growled, "Bullocks!" 

Draco snorted in amusement as the Dark Lord chuckled. "Do tell, Dr. Granger!" 

"You're aware that Ginny Weasely broke off her secret romance with Harry Potter, are you not?" 

Voldemort looked sharply at Draco, as if to ask if Hermione knew of the Dark Lord's interest in Ginny Weasely. Draco subtly shook his head, careful to make sure that Hermione didn't notice. Voldemort visibly relaxed and turned to Hermione. 

"What does Ginny Weasley have to do with any of this?" he asked in a thin voice. 

Hermione answered, "Harry was distraught when they broke up, despite appearances to the contrary. I overheard him after a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix one night. He told Ron that if he could finally kill you, Ginny Weasley could find some peace. It had something to do about what happened in The Chamber of Secrets, but he didn't give Ron the details. I was under the impression that Ron knew what he was talking about. I have no idea what really happened all those years ago, and I know Harry's carrying a secret. I guess he doesn't trust me anymore," she said flatly. 

"He'd be right not to trust you, my dear," interjected Draco. Hermione allowed herself an evil grin. 

"At any rate," she continued, "Harry said that if he killed you, then he could be a hero in Ginny's eyes and she could put the past behind her. He seemed to think that she still needed to get past what happened all those years ago. He confided to Ron that once you were dead, she'd have to take him back." She shook her head in disapproval. "He's willing to risk an all-out war just to impress his bloody girlfriend! Let's just say I have no faith in his judgment. Harry has turned into an egomaniac," she spat. 

Voldemort kept his gaze on Hermione but asked Draco, "Is she telling the truth, my boy? Is she having doubts about Harry Potter?" 

"Absolutely," said Draco firmly. "Hermione thinks there are other ways to solve the political differences you have with The Order of the Phoenix, don't you, my love?" 

Hermione nodded. "Albus Dumbledore is pushing for war, the old fool. I swear, I think he's gone soft in the head. Are you determined to fight him?" 

Voldemort gave a weak shrug. "I see no other alternative, at this point. Although Mr. Malfoy has been advocating diplomacy. I assume this is your doing, Dr. Granger?" 

Hermione nodded her head vigorously. "I'm hoping, my Lord." 

Stroking his chin thoughtfully, he remarked, "Well, there may be a way, but first I have to know how far you're willing to go. What price are you willing to pay in order to have peace?" 

"I'll do just about anything." 

Voldemort gave a low laugh. "You haven't even heard my proposal yet. Tell me, Dr. Granger, do you know anything about The Sentient Healing Ritual?" 

Hermione had just been about to take a sip of tea when the cup went crashing to the floor and shattered into several pieces. Voldemort was momentarily startled, but he gathered his composure quickly while Hermione muttered her apologies. She stood up and turned, hesitating before bending over to pick up the broken china. She didn't even react to what she was seeing. 

There was a large bookshelf behind her chair and Severus had made his way up, winding between books and shelves as he'd climbed higher and higher. Hermione looked at him briefly, but long enough to notice that he was peeking out behind a statue of Morgan Le Fay that was resting next to a high row of heavy books. He was just slithering back behind the large figurine when Hermione stood back up, shards of china in hand, and sat down. 

She prayed that he'd completed the first part of his task. 

************************************** 

While Severus had been transforming into a snake for the better part of ten years, he still couldn't quite get used to the feeling of being so small and inconsequential. Of course, he was a highly venomous snake, but even so, he was still just a snake. However, it did have it's advantages: He could slide himself into tight places and slither about completely unnoticed, which was most useful in his life as a spy. Until recently, he'd managed to keep it a secret from everybody except for Albus. To say that he was unregistered was an understatement. 

He'd felt Hermione's gut tighten in apprehension and could feel her fear as her breath became shallow when they walked into Voldemort's cottage. He longed to comfort her but knew that whatever the price, Hermione would come through for them. He had no doubt. 

Once he'd released himself from her ankle, he stayed in the relative safety under her chair, waiting and listening for a time where he felt safe enough to poke his head out to explore. At one point, he'd wound his way around Hermione's robe, only to see Draco looking down at him. It had only been a brief look, but Severus knew him well enough to recognize the amused glimmer in his eye. The little bugger was enjoying this, damn him. 

The only disadvantage to being a snake was his rather poor eyesight, but through the years, he'd learned to compensate by using his keen sense of smell. Using his undulating forked tongue, he could actually taste the things he was smelling, as if tasting the very air around him. While, as a man, he loved the taste of Hermione's skin, flicking his tongue on her as a snake was even more incredible . . . his sense was completely heightened. 

Twisted, but true nonetheless. 

Curled in the relative safety under the chair, he nudged his head out, flicking his tongue until he could taste them . . . books. Lots and lots of books. There were old, musty books, straight ahead. Writhing quickly, he made his way to the side of the bookcase, all the while, Hermione and Draco were keeping Voldemort busy with his back turned away from the shelves. Once the plan had been formulated, Severus had taken the time to practice his climbing skills that day, and he found himself going up, up the shelves, finding nooks and crannies to curl in while he maneuvered his way to what appeared to be a large statue. There was room enough for him to curl himself behind the porcelain figure. 

He waited. 

Holding himself very still, he concentrated on the sound of Voldemort's voice, the Dark Lord but a shadowy silhouette. When Voldemort mentioned The Sentient Healing Ritual, Hermione had dropped the cup of tea, on cue. 

With the Dark Lord distracted, Severus did something that very, very few wizards were capable of doing in an Animagus form. 

He cast the traceless Tracking Charm on Voldemort. 

He could feel the magic surging from within him, somehow knowing that it had worked. If there was one thing that Severus Snape was capable of, it was total concentration, even in the face of death and chaos. This ability had saved his life on more than one occasion and now, with so much at stake, Severus conjured up all the magic in his soul to cast that spell. 

He could hear Hermione picking up the broken teacup and again, he waited for the next step. 

*************************************** 

Draco got halfway up to help Hermione, but she'd moved quickly, babbling all the while about how sorry she was. Voldemort's attention was completely on the flustered woman and while he couldn't see his uncle very well in the dim light, he'd felt pretty certain that Severus had been able to cast the spell. His eyes fell upon Hermione, admiring how she was holding up under the strain. While she'd had her doubts, she was uniquely capable of this deception. He felt a swell of pride for her and for his uncle, as well. 

Hermione seated herself and looked imploringly at Draco. "Did you know about this?" 

"Now love, I thought it best if our Lord be the one to tell you about The Sentient Healing Ritual. Just hear him out, it's rather intriguing." 

Voldemort gave Hermione a thoughtful gaze. "Draco was under the impression that you didn't know anything about the ritual. I take it he was wrong?" 

"Not entirely, my Lord. You've caught me off guard. During my studies in Edinburgh, it was something that was discussed in general, but more as an historical curiosity. Nobody knows much about it, the books have been lost for centuries and the details of the ritual have been lost. The only thing I know is that it's the ultimate healing and that it's only been done a couple of times in history. I know nothing of it beyond that." 

"I have a confession to make," said the Dark Lord, leaning over to whisper to her in a harsh rasp. "I'm sure it hasn't escaped your notice that I'm very ill. While my powers are not at an all-time low, the last few years fighting Harry Potter have taken a toll. The danger here is that if I succumb, if my power fails, I will have no control over my warriors. They will strike out on their own and anarchy will reign. War would be inevitable. The only thing keeping them in check is myself. They await my orders. I have to be restored to my former power in order for diplomacy to rule the day. It's the only way to avert war." 

"The lying bastard," thought Hermione. She smiled sweetly at him. 

"To be honest with you, I have a hard time believing you want peace, my Lord. How do I know this isn't a trick?" 

"You don't, my dear. However, you might look to Mr. Malfoy for advice. He tells me that he loves you very much. I doubt that he would let you undergo a process that would harm you in any way." 

Draco went over and knelt beside Hermione. He took her hand, kissing it in obvious reassurance. "You're not in any danger, my love. I wouldn't let anything happen to you. I enjoy the privilege of High Rank amongst our Lord's servants. There will be nothing but peace and reward if you go through with this." He gave her his most sincere look. 

Hermione turned to Voldemort. "But how do you know about The Sentient Healing Ritual? The books have been lost!" 

Voldemort allowed himself an indulgent chuckle. "I have found the book." 

"Oh! That's incredible!" Hermione let her natural excitement creep into her voice. "Can I read it? I must see it! Oh, this is unbelievable!" 

Voldemort lifted himself and walked unsteadily to the shelf. Severus moved himself back into a corner of the bookshelf, as far as he could go. He held himself very, very still. 

The Dark Lord reached out at chest level and pulled a big black book from the shelf. Draco rose, asking if he needed any help, but Voldemort shook his head and tightly clutched the volume to his chest as he went over to his chair. He laid it open in his lap and looking up, he spoke. 

"I have the last known copy, Dr. Granger. Let me direct you to the proper chapter." He handed her the book. 

Scanning it, she was disappointed to see it was written in an unfamiliar language. She looked up inquiringly at Voldemort who answered her obvious question. "It's written in Manx Gaelic, the language of the ancient peoples of The Isle of Man. Sentient Healing originated and thrived there while Britain and Scotland fought over her land. Once the people were conquered, the language eventually died out. The books were lost during the earlier wars." 

"But--" 

"I've had the details of the ritual translated. I took the liberty of making you a copy." He handed her a sheath of parchments that were folded within the book. 

Hermione glanced at the parchments, reading quickly. The ritual involved their wands, two goblets, a potion and a spell. There also was to be symbolic representation in the form of an image of a white flower, as well as some snow in a vial and the lighting of an orange candle. The orange candle was to be anointed in musk, cinnamon, frankincense and rosemary oil, used to symbolize the renewing energy of the Suns rebirth. 

There was absolutely no mention of the consequences of the ritual, how it rendered the healer completely drained of his or her magic. Instead, there was a paragraph about how ancient Sentients used the ritual to not only heal others, but to strengthen their own magical abilities. 

A complete lie. 

"Well, this doesn't look too bad," Hermione said quietly. "It sounds like it's beneficial for all involved." 

"That's the beauty of it, Dr. Granger," said Voldemort. "This is a no-lose situation. We both get stronger, I reign in my Death Eaters and both sides meet on equal terms, with equal strength. I see a bringing together of both sides. We all want what's best for our people, do we not? Think of it! You can openly be with the man you love . . . no more defending yourself against those who oppose your relationship with Mr. Malfoy. No more dangerous attacks from both sides. You can spend the rest of your lives together peacefully. All of your dreams will be realized. I see a very bright future for you. You can have anything you want. A new hospital of your own, even . . . endless money for research. Think of the good you could do, my dear." 

He paused to allow his words to sink in. 

"Isn't it wonderful, my love?" murmured Draco. "It's the solution to all our problems." 

Hermione continued reading. "It says here that the ritual should be held during the Festival of Imbolc." She looked up, startled. "That's less than a week away." 

"Do you understand the importance of Imbolc?" asked Voldemort. "According to legend, the Old Woman of winter, the Cailleach, is reborn as the Bride, the Young Maiden of Spring, fragile yet growing stronger each day as the sun rekindles its fire, turning scarcity into abundance. Read this paragraph out loud, so Draco can hear it. It's on the third page of the parchment." 

Hermione quoted the page: "Bride with her white wand is said to breathe life into the mouth of the dead Winter and bring him to open his eyes to the tears and the smiles, the sighs and the laughter of Spring. The venom of the cold is said to tremble for its safety on Bride's Day, and to flee for its life on Patrick's Day." Her eyes widened in comprehension. "Oh!" 

"Exactly!" rumbled the Dark Lord. "You, my dear, are the bride, and with your healing powers, you will bring the dead Winter, or myself, back to life. Imbolc is the day that the Sentient healing power is at its most potent." 

He paused to allow them to completely take in what he'd said. 

"There isn't much time, Dr. Granger. I have to know if you'll undergo the ritual with me. Without you, all is lost." It was obvious Voldemort had not lost his flair for the dramatic. 

"I--" Hermione began. 

Suddenly, there was a shout from the doorway and to Draco and Hermione's surprise, Lucius Malfoy stepped quickly into the room. His eyes barely flicked on them before turning to Voldemort. "My Lord! I beg your pardon for the intrusion, but I'm afraid that something has come up that needs your attention immediately. A woman recently Apparated near Malfoy Manor and was picked up by my guards. She was rather disoriented, but she gave her identity. I know you'll want to speak with her." 

"Who is it?" asked Draco in curiosity. 

Lucius raised an eyebrow at his son and looked inquiringly at the Dark Lord, who nodded his assent. "Yes, tell us," he said. "Who does she say she is?" 

"It's Taryn Butler, my Lord." 

****************************** 

There was a moment of stunned silence before Voldemort took command of the situation. "Put her in the Interrogation Room. I'll attend to this shortly," he snapped. He turned to Hermione and noticed the rattled look on both Draco and Hermione's faces. It was absolutely genuine. 

From his place on the bookshelf, Severus heard everything and marveled at Albus Dumbledore. "Say what you will," he thought. "The man is absolutely brilliant." The only thing they'd told Hermione and Draco was that there was to be a major diversion, something that would break up the meeting and clear the room so that Severus could duplicate the book. Albus told Hermione that he wanted their reaction to be completely genuine. They were to do whatever Voldemort instructed and the rest would be up to Severus. While Filius had been keeping track of both Hermione and Draco through the crystal ball, Albus had been coordinating the efforts to bring Taryn Butler to Malfoy Sr.'s attention. It had to be timed just perfectly. 

Voldemort looked as angry as a red boil. "I thought you told me she was dead, Mr. Malfoy!" he roared. 

Draco swallowed hard. He let his natural ability to think on his feet take over. "My Lord," he said firmly. "I assure you that I knew nothing of this. Albus Dumbledore doesn't even know we're here. And while you can criticize me for not knowing Taryn Butler is alive, surely you understand that even Dumbledore knows that it's best not to divulge everything to all members of The Order of the Phoenix. It would make him very vulnerable. Instead, like yourself, he spreads his information amongst us in fractured pieces. Perhaps he figured that he would tell us all about this in a meeting, when it's all over. Although," he frowned, "I don't know why he's allowed her to be released, when he went through all the trouble to fake her death." 

"I intend to find out, Mr. Malfoy." He turned to Hermione and gave her a smile. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I must cut this short. I so wanted to continue talking with you. Of course, you have free choice in this matter, I would not dream of forcing you. You may Disapparate from the cottage grounds. One of my servants will see you out. I hope you don't mind, but I feel that I'll need Draco's assistance in this matter, so he'll be staying. I'm sure you'll understand." 

Hermione smiled at him and nodded. "I have to confess my Lord, I was most apprehensive about meeting you. However, I now see you in a completely new light. Draco believes you're sincere and I trust Draco with my life. This has been most interesting. We'll be in touch." She held out her hand for him to kiss. 

"Stupid cow," thought Voldemort as he pressed a frozen kiss on her hand. 

"Fucking bastard," thought Hermione, as she suppressed the urge to vomit. 

Voldemort slowly walked over to the book and pulled out the translated parchments. "Here," he said. "Take this with you. I'll need your answer soon, preferably within 24 hours. Send word with Mr. Malfoy. I must have several days to prepare the potion for the ritual, should you agree." 

"Until we meet again, my Lord," Hermione murmured. She was led out of the room by a Death Eater, leaving only Lucius, Draco and Voldemort. Of course, Severus was coiled in a dark corner, listening to everything. 

"How did it go, Excellency?" asked Malfoy, Sr. 

Voldemort chuckled. "Better than I'd hoped. Your son's charm must be irresistible. I'm completely certain the girl is going to undergo the ritual. But for now, we must deal with Taryn Butler. Follow me, gentlemen." 

************************** 

Once the room was completely cleared, Severus quickly slid down the bookcase, careful not to knock over the statue as he went around it. Slithering over to the table that held the book, he did what was probably the most dangerous part of the plan: 

He transformed himself back into a human. 

They'd debated and debated this part of the plot, but there was no getting around it. He was a very talented wizard, but casting a series of secret spells on objects he could barely see as a snake was just too risky. Not to mention the fact that he'd never previously attempted to wield his magic as a snake. His Animagus form had been used solely for stealth purposes, with the intention of getting him from one place to another, in secret. 

So it had been decided that he was going to have to transform back to a human to complete the last part of his task. Looking around quickly, he went to the opened book, which was still lying on the table. 

Using magic was going to be tricky, but they were relying on two things to aid them in their task: One was that Voldemort had absolutely no idea that Severus was alive and that he could transform as a snake. The Dark Lord had been getting a little careless with his security, a little arrogant and Severus knew that nobody had entertained the possibility that a spy was currently within the cottage. Wizards, even experienced, powerful ones like Voldemort, could not see what they did not expect. 

The second thing working in their favor was that, short of serving Harry Potter on a silver platter, having Taryn Butler make an unexpected appearance completely and profoundly distracted Voldemort and Malfoy, Sr. Severus was certain that if he worked quickly and efficiently, he would be able to escape unnoticed. 

He quickly muttered a duplicating spell and conjured a second copy of "Arcanus Sentiens". He then reduced the duplicated book to a very tiny size and walked over to the bookcase, tucking the small tome behind the shelves, on the floor. 

One of the first things he'd noticed while climbing up the shelves as a snake was that the bookcase was situated on a far wall, next to a window. There was a small gap behind the shelves, into which a snake could easily crawl. The gap was also small enough to hide a tiny book. Severus shoved the small book in the gap and darted his eyes around the room. 

Muttering another spell, he created a small, deep hole in the stone wall behind the bookcase . . . again, a hole that could easily accommodate a snake. 

Severus looked around quickly, giving the room one last perusal. Transforming himself back into the adder, he allowed himself a moment to wonder how Draco was doing. "I hope the boy is all right," he thought anxiously, before sliding back behind the bookcase. Clenching the tiny book in his mouth, he escaped through the newly formed hole to the outside of the cottage, his snake form still intact. He was easily able to dart amongst the trees and rocks, his inky blackness hidden in the darkness. He eventually made his way down the path to the ocean where, transforming himself back into a human, he allowed one last look towards the cabin before Disapparating back to Hogwarts. 

His last thought was of his nephew. 

Until Draco Malfoy appeared back at the school, Severus was going to have an anxious time of it. The plan would not be a success unless Draco was able to get away unscathed from the Dark Lord and his father. He also knew that they would not hesitate to kill Draco if they thought he'd betrayed them. 

"Please Merlin," he thought. "Let the boy come home safely." 

TBC 

************************************ 

A/N: It's taking me longer and longer to do these chapters, as I must be careful to pay attention to a lot of detail. I hope you continue to be patient with me. Hopefully, I can update soon!   



	23. Chapter 22: Wait

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


See previous chapters for the disclaimer. Again, this is rated R for language and sexual situations. 

************************** 

In the cowslip pips I lie,   
Hidden from the buzzing fly,   
While green grass beneath me lies,   
Pearled with dew like fishes' eyes,   
Here I lie, a clock-o'-clay,   
Waiting for the time o' day. 

Day by day and night by night,   
All the week I hide from sight;   
In the cowslip pips I lie,   
In the rain still warm and dry;   
Day and night and night and day,   
Red, black-spotted clock-o'-clay. 

~From the poem, "Clock-'O-Clay" by John Clare 

************************************ 

Chapter 22: Wait 

Draco threw himself on his bed, staring at the high ceiling of his very fashionable boudoir, running a restless hand through his fine hair. He'd have rather been anywhere but at the Manor, but everyone had thought it best that he at least make the appearance of being a loyal Malfoy, for whatever good that would do. His father mostly ignored him and his mother was out again, Merlin only knew where. He flipped back over on his stomach, punching the pillow before burying his head in its downy depths. He let out a harsh, theatrical sigh. 

He didn't feel like a Malfoy anymore. 

He was so tired of pretending, so tired of always having to be on guard. 

"One more day," he encouraged himself. One more day and the Final Battle would begin. He indulged in a shiver of anticipation. It had been a tough five days since he'd left Voldemort's cottage. 

Five days of plotting and scheming and waiting. 

Five days of hiding from his father. 

His only comfort had been in the certain affection of his Uncle Severus and Hermione. When he'd shown up at the Headmaster's office that night, they'd been waiting with obvious anxiety. When she saw him, Hermione had let out a relieved cry and had hurled herself into his arms, while Severus couldn't hide the brief but perceptible look of satisfaction on his face. His eyes had softened when he looked at Draco. 

Their reaction had been comforting enough that night, but now the moment of truth was at hand. Indeed, the waiting had been the worst part of it all. 

Gods! How he wished it was over. 

He'd come out of it either dead or alive, but at least either way, his fate would be sealed. He'd been agitated for days now, snapping at bartenders, yelling at shopkeepers, and people who knew him wondered at his bad temper. He'd even resorted to kicking a House Elf for old time's sake, although he'd had the decency to feel badly about it afterwards. He'd tried giving the little bugger the day off, but that had only made the creature cry even harder. 

He shook his head at the memory. Elves. The weirdest of the weird. 

"I have to get out of here," he thought. Grabbing his cloak, he made his way to the Entrance Hall of the Manor. Seeing nobody about, he immediately Apparated to Hogsmeade out of habit and soon found himself heading towards Hogwarts. He hadn't planned on visiting the school tonight, but it seemed like the natural thing to do. 

It felt like home to him now. Funny how it had never felt that way when he'd been a student. 

As he walked slowly towards the castle, his mind wandered back to five days previously, when he'd been trapped between Lucius and Voldemort in the Dark Lord's cottage. All the while Draco had hoped that Albus Dumbledore knew what he was doing. How could that barmy old wizard have allowed him to face that situation with absolutely no warning? 

He'd been completely caught by surprise. 

He remembered everything quite vividly. Taryn Butler had been seated on a lone chair, her hands bound behind her back, while Voldemort, Lucius and Draco took stock of her. They had no way of knowing her state of mind or her intentions, for that matter. Her normally bright, sunny hair had been disheveled and tangled, hanging in loose clumps around her face. When she saw Voldemort, she'd dropped out of the chair to kneel before him, groveling at his feet. Draco remembered feeling disgust at her pathetic display. 

"My Lord," she'd rasped hoarsely. "I'm so happy to see you." 

Voldemort had indicated to Lucius that he wanted a chair, and pulling it up opposite the former mediwitch, he'd regarded her suspiciously. "Where have you been, Miss Butler? We were all under the impression that you were dead." 

Taryn looked at him blankly and said something completely unexpected. "I don't know, my Lord. The last thing I remember, I was heading down to the Potions Lab, to put our plan into action. I had hidden the poison in the sleeve of my robe and my intention had been to confront Snape and administer the calitropis. That's all I know." 

"You remember nothing after that?" 

Taryn shook her head. "I know nothing of what happened to Professor Snape. The next thing I remember is standing outside Malfoy Manor and being confronted by his guards. I thought it best to ask for Lord Malfoy, as I had no idea how I'd come to be there." 

Voldemort frowned. "What happened to Severus Snape?" 

"Again, I do not know, my Lord. I was hoping that I'd killed the bastard, but if I did, I don't remember it." 

"Oh really," huffed Draco. "This is pointless. It's obvious that her memory has been tampered with." He looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Although I'm hard pressed to accept that at face value. Why should we believe you? What are you hiding, you incompetent bitch? Are you a spy?" He moved forward with menace, stopping when his father placed a restraining hand on him. 

Taryn's dull blue eyes welled with tears. "I'm telling you the truth! I know nothing of where I've been." She looked around in confusion. "What day is it, if I may ask?" 

"It's January 27th," answered the Dark Lord. "You've been 'dead' for over six weeks." 

Her eyes widened. She'd obviously missed that little tidbit the first time Voldemort had mentioned it. "Dead? You were told I was dead?" 

"Is there an echo in here, Miss Butler?" Voldemort's voice came out as a snarl. 

"I'm s-s-sorry, my Lord," she stammered. "But you must believe me! If I knew anything, I would certainly tell you immediately. I'd even be willing to take Veratiserum to prove it to you." 

Voldermort waved her off with a distracted gesture. "I agree with young Mr. Malfoy, here. This is pointless. However I will take your offer to undergo the Truth Serum under advisement, Miss Butler. For now, I will have my guards see to your needs. We'll talk more later." Draco turned to give her one more obtuse, sideways glance, but there was no glimmer of slyness or cunning on her face. She looked genuinely befuddled. 

Taryn nodded gratefully, as the trio made their way out. Walking into the library, Draco muttered, "I don't know about you, but I need a drink." His heart was pounding. 

"Now is not the time, you idiot boy," his father had snapped at him. "We must keep our wits about us. Taryn Butler was obviously let go for a reason." 

"Indeed, Lucius," said Voldemort softly. "And I know who was behind this. This has Albus Dumbledore written all over it." 

"But why, my Lord?" Lucius was doubtful. "For what purpose?" 

"To bait me, of course," said the Dark Lord. "He wants to throw me off balance. I have no idea what she disclosed to them, after all. While I foolishly entrusted her with the task of assassinating Severus Snape, she was not privy to some of my more secret plans. She did know of the book, "Arcanus Sentiens" as she saw it on my table once. Even so, they know nothing about the Sentient Healing Ritual, or my preparations for it. Unless--" His eyes were suspicious slits. "Unless somebody told them of my plans for Hermione Granger." He looked pointedly at Draco. 

Draco rolled his eyes. "And I would do that, because . . . ?" he asked sarcastically. "I betray you and I lose everything for which I've worked so hard. Not to mention the threat of castration and death by my own father, no less. Although, to be truthful, I'd rather be dead than castrated," he'd added firmly. 

His father gave him an incredulous look, then quickly squinted at him. "You've been rather quiet and aloof, my boy. Almost as if you had something to hide," he said smoothly, looking at the Dark Lord to gauge his reaction. Draco chose that moment to lose his temper. 

"I have done nothing to deserve this suspicion!" he'd shouted. "I have gladly betrayed the Order of The Phoenix . . . what the hell have you done lately, you useless old man?" He began to pace angrily. "The work has been completed on both the Soul Shattering Potion and Spell and The Order is ready to act. I'm just waiting to find out when they're going to try to administer them to our Lord so we can formulate a plan." His voice began to rise. "I can assure you that I want my life back and until The Order of The Bloody Fucking Phoenix is defeated, I have no life!" The sentence ended in a shout, his face red and his eyes threatening to bulge out of their sockets. 

"I must look a frightful mess," he thought fleetingly, all the while, his face was spread in a grimace of righteous anger. 

Lucius was taken aback, but Voldemort just chuckled affectionately. "That's my boy! Don't take shit from anybody! Your loyalty will be amply rewarded, Mr. Malfoy. Sooner than you think." 

"Do you have something in mind?" The hopeful tone in Draco's voice was genuine. 

"Tell The Order of The Bloody Fucking Phoenix, as you so aptly called them, that I am going to undergo the Sentient Healing Ritual with Hermione Granger during The Festival of Imbolc." Draco looked at him in disbelief as the Dark Lord tutted. "Convince them that this would be a good time to administer The Soul Shattering Potion and Spell on me. They'll descend upon my hideout, ready for a fight. But instead of taking their potion, we will disarm them. Perhaps an ambush would be in order." 

Draco began to comprehend. "Once they're disarmed, you can undergo The Sentient Healing Ritual with Hermione and --" 

Voldemort interrupted him. "And, with my powers amplified, I can defeat them on the spot, Mr. Malfoy." 

Lucius sucked in a breath. "Brilliant, my Lord!" 

"Well of course it is!" said Voldemort arrogantly. "I thought of it, didn't I?" 

Neither of them noticed the look of deep concentration on Draco's face. 

All the while, the little wheels were clicking and whirling away in the young spy's mind. 

****************************************** 

In all the months that she'd been living at Hogwarts, Hermione's chambers could never have been described as "homey" or "comfy". She'd treated her rooms with the usual callous disregard she'd shown her all her quarters since her days as a young student. While the other girls decorated with frills and frou-frou, Hermione had steadfastly refused to indulge in such silliness. Private rooms were meant to be slept in, with an occasional meal thrown in for good measure . . . the real fun was to be found in the Library, or at the Hospital, or in the Potions Lab. 

She made a mental note to add "Hunting Lodge" to those places that were meant for "real fun." 

She giggled to herself, which caught the immediate attention of Ron Weasley. He raised a suggestive eyebrow and said, "You never used to giggle like that, Hermione. You must be thinking veeeeery naughty thoughts. Stop me if I'm wrong." Hermione let out a false cry of outrage and tackled him with a pillow. 

To her utter delight, Ron and Harry had decided to spend the day before The Final Battle with her and it had been wonderfully like old times. Nobody said much about what was to come, and in fact, Albus had commanded that they rest and have a good time before facing the Dark Lord. They'd schemed and puzzled and planned until everything seemed to be in firmly place. There was nothing more left to be done. 

"It will do no good to worry and fret," the Headmaster had told them. "While we don't know what tomorrow will bring, I suggest that we live for today . . . be sure to tell your companions how much you love them and how much they mean to you. Spend time with them and have fun. Today we live. Tomorrow we fight." 

They'd completely taken his suggestion to heart. 

It was as if being at their old school together had reverted them back to type, and they'd spent the day sneaking food from the Kitchens and arguing over who was the best Quiddich player, with Hermione huffing that nobody cared about that stupid stuff anyway. She'd predictably rolled her eyes at them and had wiped a stray bit of gravy from the side of Ron's mouth, all the while he'd grinned at her affectionately. They'd even taken a trip out to the Quidditch pitch and Hermione had wrapped her red and gold scarf around her neck and had cheered them on while they swooped and dove, passing the Quaffle back and forth. 

It was so wonderful being with them like this. She only wished Draco and Severus could have joined them. However, for his protection, Severus was still in hiding and Draco had murmured that he'd see her at sometime before The Final Battle. He had a couple of last minute things to tend to. 

It had probably been for the best. 

It was late afternoon and Harry and Ron were sprawled on the floor in front of her fireplace, playing a game of Wizard's chess. Ron was winning of course, and Harry's chess pieces had resorted to hurling bawdy insults at Ron's queen from across the chessboard, trying to bait his pieces into a fight. Harry noticed that Hermione had gotten a bit quiet and he was the first to talk about the upcoming battle. He intuitively knew that she was thinking about it. 

"It's going to work out, Hermione," he said soothingly. "Personally, I can't wait until that bastard gets what he deserves. I've never hated anyone so much in my life." 

Ron nodded his head in understanding. "I keep thinking about what I'm going to do when the Dark Lord is dead. Once he's gone, all the glamour will go out of being an Auror. We'll be reduced to investigating illegal love potions and breaking up gambling rings amongst the Quiddich ranks. Quite a letdown, considering what we've been doing all these years." 

Hermione regarded him thoughtfully. "What are you going to do, once this is over?" 

Ron rolled over on his back, staring at the ceiling. "I dunno, Hermione. I was thinking that I'd really like to work with my Dad in The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department. He tells me that old Perkins is set to retire soon. Some people think that what he does is pointless and stupid, but it's actually fascinating and it can also be quite fun. I remember one time when Dad was called out of bed in the middle of the night to investigate a . . . what do you call them, Harry? You know, those Muggle contraptions that wash your clothes?" 

"They're called washing machines, Ron," Harry laughed. "Muggle appliances seem to completely confound you." 

"Oh yes . . . that's a good name for them, by the way. Anyway, this washing machine had been enchanted and Dad was called to deal with it. He let me tag along and when we arrived at the Muggle's flat, the machine was spitting out wet clothes all over the room . . . there were soap bubbles everywhere and every time we tried to get near it, it would spew another article of clothing out at us. Dad ended up with a pair of lacy pink knickers swinging from the tip of his hat. It was quite hilarious, I wish I'd had a camera." 

Hermione grinned at the thought. "I think your Dad would be delighted to know that you want to work with him, Ron. It's a wonderful idea." She turned to Harry. "What about you? What do you want to do when this is all over?" 

"Sleep," said Harry firmly. "I want to sleep and sleep and sleep until I can't sleep anymore. I don't think I've gotten a good nights sleep in years. And then . . . " he looked tentatively over at Ron. "And then, I want to try to repair the damage I've done to Ginny. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to her, and if I'm lucky, she'll forgive me for treating her so callously. I guess I don't have to tell you that I love her," he added sheepishly. 

"Now is a fine time to figure that out," muttered Ron. Harry looked suitably apologetic. "I've been such an idiot, Ron. You tried to tell me, but I just couldn't see it. Now I may have lost her for good, which is probably what I deserve." 

Hermione and Ron were conspicuously silent upon that remark. 

Ron suddenly reached up and pulled one of Hermione's wild, stray curls. "What about you, Hermione? Need I ask what your plans are? Let me guess . . . you're going to shag and shag and shag until you can't shag anymore." Harry raised an eyebrow and tried not to look too green at the thought of Hermione and Snape together. 

Hermione let out a pained groan. "Oh really! Is that all you men ever think about?" 

"You mean, besides Quidditch? Then yes, that's all we men think about," mimicked Ron. "Hasn't Snape taught you anything?" Harry put his hands to his ears. "Enough! Do you mind? I'm getting mental images here!" 

They all broke down and laughed. 

"I see that I'm still the subject of juvenile repartee amongst the Gryffindors," said a rich, deep baritone. It was steeped in sarcasm. "How utterly commonplace." 

Startled, they all looked up to see the Potions Master regarding them with a haughty sneer. The smiles froze on Ron and Harry's faces, but Hermione was instantly transformed. 

She went very still as their eyes locked. Everything melted away and she was only aware of his penetrating eyes and his lean body. She could feel herself becoming instantly aroused at the mere sight of him and she let out a soft sigh of longing. 

Severus was also transformed while looking at her. His eyes softened and his body instantly relaxed, his mouth quirking into the barest hint of a smile. While he still looked quite formidable, he seemed to radiate a happiness of which neither Ron nor Harry would have believed him capable. 

Harry was astounded, glancing from her face, to his and back to hers again. Ron had told him that Snape and Hermione were deeply in love, but a part of him had refused to believe it. He couldn't fathom that the Old Bat of The Dungeons could love anything except taking away House points. 

Obviously he'd been very, very wrong. 

Clearing his throat, he stammered, "Erm . . . I'm sorry Professor Snape. We didn't mean any disrespect. We were just . . . " 

"We were just leaving," said Ron quickly, giving Harry a pointed look. Getting up from the chessboard, he leaned down and gave Hermione a peck on the cheek. "Goodnight, love. We'll see you in the morning. Come along, Harry." 

Harry grinned and gave Hermione a hug before resting his gaze back upon the Potions Master. 

"Take care of her, sir. And good luck tomorrow." 

Severus nodded gravely, his face very serious. "Mr. Weasley. Mr. Potter." 

Ron and Harry couldn't get away fast enough. 

Once they were alone, Hermione waggled a finger at him. "Honestly Severus! Do you still have to intimidate them like that? They're grown men now." 

Severus grinned in response. "Gods! That was so much fun! It almost makes me long for the good old days. Almost . . . " 

She interrupted him. "What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to stay in hiding." 

Severus pretended to look hurt. "Well, if that's going to be my greeting-" 

Hermione walked quickly to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a gentle kiss. "I'm sorry, Severus. I'm just surprised to see you. I thought we were going to wait until after the Battle." 

"Surely you didn't think that I would let you sleep alone on the night before we face Voldemort, did you? You belong with me tonight." 

And with that, he dropped his robes to the floor. He was completely naked. 

Hermione gasped and then couldn't resist batting her eyelashes at him. 

"Are your intentions honorable, sir?" 

"Hell no!" he roared. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the bedroom. 

*************************** 

Ginny hurried down the Hogwarts hallway, sliding on the slick floor as she hastily rounded a corner. She could hear Ron and Harry behind her, laughing and hooting as they made their way closer and closer. "I have to find a place to hide," she thought irrationally. She knew that she was being juvenile, but she just couldn't face them right now. 

She'd impulsively decided to visit with Hermione that night, as it had been several weeks since she'd last seen her old school chum. They'd been very good friends while at Hogwarts, but Hermione's busy schedule while in medical school had prevented them from forging a closer bond in recent years. Ginny tried to tell herself that her current interest in Hermione had nothing to do with Draco Malfoy, but she wasn't fooling herself. The fact of the matter was, she was very curious about Hermione's relationship with their former school enemy. There had been a recent article about them on the society page of The Daily Prophet and Ginny had been unable to keep her eyes off the photograph of Malfoy's cool, aristocratic face. Even his image mocked her as it lifted a haughty eyebrow and gave her a superior smirk. 

She paused, looking around frantically, then noticed that there was a suit of armor standing stiffly by a window. She skidded behind it just as Harry and Ron walked by. 

"Ow, you git! You stepped on my foot!" Ron paused to hop up and down, grabbing his injured appendage. 

"Sorry, mate," muttered Harry. "I guess I'm still stunned at the sight of Hermione and Severus Snape making lovesick puppy eyes at each other. Until I saw it for myself, I never would have believed that those two could be madly in love. Can you just imagine them frolicking in bed? The thought of it makes me want to-" 

"Oh, grow up Harry. He obviously makes her very happy. Do you ever remember Hermione being this happy in her life? She told me that the best thing that's ever happened to her was falling in love with Professor Snape." He chuckled. "We'll probably be seeing some blackhaired, big- nosed Snape children in the near future. Can you imagine? What a bossy, snarly pack of brats those two will have." 

Harry's laugh echoed off the walls, their voices fading as they walked around another corner. 

Ginny was barely breathing. 

That slut! How could she do this to Draco? 

She came out of her hiding place and began to march back to confront Hermione with what she'd learned. Then a thought occurred to her and she immediately halted. 

Wait a minute. Wasn't Snape dead? 

Ginny's mind reeled in confusion. 

What the hell was going on? Snape was alive and in love with Hermione? She didn't know if she should go back to Hermione's quarters, or run to Draco with the news. She forced herself to calm down and think. 

Perhaps she should do neither. Perhaps she should just mind her own business. 

Settling an internal struggle, Ginny decided that the wisest thing to do was to stay out of it. Whatever was going on, she wasn't supposed to know about it. Maybe this had something to do with the war against Voldemort. "Just leave it alone," she thought with a sigh. She made her way to the Entrance Hall and turned to leave the school. 

"Leaving us so soon, Miss Weasley?" 

She looked up to see the Headmaster giving her a thoughtful look. He seemed to have materialized out of nowhere. 

"Erm, yes Professor. I was going to visit with Hermione, but I think that it's not a good time right now. I'll talk to her later." 

The Headmaster gave her a knowing look. "Sometimes, things are not always as they appear to be. I hope you understand that." 

"Yes sir," Ginny answered. She was more convinced than ever that all the deception had to do with the war. "I'll remember that." 

Dumbledore nodded at her. "Good evening, Miss Weasley. I trust that when we meet again, things will be clearer to you." 

Wondering at his meaning, Ginny exited Hogwarts and began to walk around the lake towards Hogsmeade. Looking into the distance, she was surprised to see another figure reclined on a rock overlooking the lake. As she moved closer, she realized to her astonishment who it was. 

Draco Malfoy. 

He'd gathered a handful of pebbles and was absently throwing them into the lake, watching the circular waves widen across the water. The sun was a fiery orange and the beautiful light reflected off the glassy surface of the lake, momentarily blinding her. He didn't even hear her approach. 

"Hello, Malfoy. Fancy meeting you here." 

He looked up startled, before his face settled into an indifferent look. "Oh. What are you doing here?" 

"I came to visit with Hermione, but I gathered she wasn't alone. I don't imagine that Professor Snape would have been too enthusiastic about seeing me. I'm guessing that he's keeping her happily occupied right now." 

Draco looked at her in amazement before he remembered to scowl. 

"That's quite a pronouncement, Weasley. Have you been dipping your pipe in the pixie dust again?" 

"Save it, Malfoy. I know that your romance with Hermione is just a front. I overheard Harry and Ron talking about it." 

Draco gave her a very annoyed look and snarled, "What is it with you? Do you spend your life in dark corners, eavesdropping on private conversations?" 

Ginny straightened her back and looked at him loftily. "No, that would be more up your alley, I think. It doesn't matter anyway. I'm not going to tell anybody. I'm very good at keeping secrets, even if my brother isn't." 

He gave her an astute look before replying, "Perhaps you're right . . it really doesn't matter. It certainly won't matter very much after--" he stopped himself. "Oh crap!" he thought. Ginny gave him a quizzical look. 

"Nevermind, Weasley. Don't you have somewhere you have to be?" 

Ginny looked so sad that Draco immediately regretted his flippancy. "No," she said. "I have nowhere to go. But I'm going just the same. Take care of yourself Malfoy." She moved around him and began walking. 

Ironically, the gods chose that moment to loosen the clouds as a light rain began to fall like teardrops, steadily getting harder. Draco felt an irresistible urge to shake his fist at the omnipotent bastards. 

Ginny didn't falter, she just kept walking resolutely away from him, the raindrops creating dark dots on her light grey cloak. 

Suddenly, a fierce emotional pain stabbed him in the chest. Tomorrow . . . tomorrow he could be dead. And he'd leave nothing behind but a legacy of mistakes and missed opportunities. A cautionary tale for young children. He closed his eyes against the rush of grief that hit his heart and he knew with a sad certainty that he'd wasted his life. He'd wasted his time and had thrown away every true emotion he'd ever felt. And most of all he'd wasted the opportunity for love. He would die and very few would even mourn. 

He felt totally and irrevocably alone. 

He could see Ginny, still walking in the distance and suddenly he knew what he had to do. 

He took off in a mad dash, oblivious to the rain that was pelting his face. He didn't care because for once, he wanted to feel alive . . . really alive. And for some reason, Ginny Weasley made him feel that way. 

Ginny heard his footsteps approaching and whirled, amazed to see him coming at her in such a determined manner. "What?" she began, but he stopped short, his breathing hard, raindrops making lacy patterns across his angelic face. She sucked in a deep breath. He looked so scared, so unlike himself. She gazed at him in wonder. 

He stepped towards her and said, "I'm sorry. I couldn't leave it like that. I just want you to know," he faltered. "I just wanted to say--" He stopped himself again and reached a tentative hand to her cheek. Ginny couldn't resist bringing her own hand up to touch his. "Goodbye," he said softly. "Be safe, Ginny. Be happy." He paused and looked intently at her before speaking again. 

"Remember me," he whispered. "Please remember me." 

He caressed her cheek with a gentle movement of his fingertips. With that, he turned and walked away. 

Ginny was frozen to the spot. He was saying goodbye and she instinctively knew that it was meant as a final goodbye. 

With a loud cry, she ran after him. He turned to her just as she reached him and launched herself into his arms. 

"Don't go," she said plaintively. "Please, don't go." Suddenly he was kissing her, his mouth devouring hers like he was taking in his last supper. She clung to him, mindful of nothing but his arms around her waist and his lips scorching a path across her mouth, her cheek, her neck. They were drenched in the rain, but neither of them noticed, so intent were they upon the other's lips, the other's hands wandering over the planes of their bodies. He greedily sucked on her top lip and broke his kiss to hug her and whisper softly in her ear. "Ginny," he sighed. "Oh Ginny." It sent a shiver down her spine. 

He suddenly stepped away from her. "I wish I could stay with you, but I have to go. I'm sorry . . . but I have to go." He stared at her, drinking in her image before turning away. 

Her voice stopped him but he didn't turn to face her. "I don't know what's going on Draco, but whatever it is, please come back safely. Not only do you and I have unfinished business, but the world would be a very bland and boring place without you." 

Turning his head to her, he gave a sad smile before walking back towards Hogwarts. 

TBC 

********************************** 

A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter. Things are definitely coming to a head! 

I wish I had the time to thank each and every one of my reviewers, but with two kids and a full time job, it's hard to do. I sincerely thank all of you, especially those of you who have reviewed on a regular basis. Please know how much I appreciate your taking the time to comment on my little story. And for those of you who have just discovered "Shattered", welcome! I hope you continue reading. 

A special thanks goes out to my beta, Elizabeth. When I first started this story, I didn't have a beta and in reading back on my earlier chapters, it certainly shows! Some day, I'll go back and fix all my grammatical errors and typos, hehehe.   



	24. Chapter 23: Death

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


Author's Note: The Final Battle is upon us. I'm sorry that it took so long to write this, but it's going to be the longest chapter, by far. Give yourself a little time, I hope it's worth it. 

The usual disclaimers apply: This story is rated R for language and sexual situations. 

************************************ 

Dread nor hope attend   
A dying animal;   
A man awaits his end   
Dreading and hoping all;   
Many times he died,   
Many times rose again.   
A great man in his pride   
Confronting murderous men   
Casts derision upon   
Supersession of breath;   
He knows death to the bone   
Man has created death. 

~From the poem, "Death" by W.B. Yeats 

  
***************************** 

Chapter 23: Death 

  
Albus Dumbledore regarded the Potions Master with a look of circumspection. 

They were gathered around a table in the Headmaster's office, peering into a quartz crystal ball that held the image of Lord Voldemort, working away in a potions laboratory. 

The Traceless Tracking Charm was working perfectly. 

From what they could see, Voldemort was busy working on the last steps of making the potion, as outlined in the Sentient Healing Ritual. Severus had been watching the Dark Lord for several days, analyzing the potion ingredients and the steps taken to make it. He wanted to be absolutely sure that Voldemort was preparing it correctly. The last thing they needed was a surprise at this stage of the game. 

"Severus, you look as if you haven't slept for a week." 

Severus grunted. "I've always had trouble sleeping, Albus. You know that." He turned his attention back to the crystal ball. 

It was important that they insure that The Dark Lord wasn't planning anything untoward with the potion, such as using it as a poison to kill Hermione. So far, it appeared that Voldemort was following the recipe outline in "Arcanus Sentiens". 

Albus peered at Severus from over his crescent-shaped glasses. "According to the book, the Sentient Healing Ritual must be held within a circle of magical henges. We had maps drawn up of all the known sites in Britain and sent Aurors out to scout the areas. Sirius Black says that there has been Death Eater activity around the Isle of Arran, off the West Coast of Scotland, near Machrie Moor. It's one of the most magical places on Earth. There has also been activity around Avebury, near Stonehenge, as well as Arbor Low in Derbyshire. There was some intelligence about activity near Glastonbury, but it wasn't completely reliable. I'd say that the ritual is going to be held in one of those places. I'd put my galleons on Machrie Moor." 

Severus nodded. "I've been to Machrie Moor. It's surrounded by tall hills, which will be useful for our forces to hide behind until it's time to Apparate. It's got six stone circles, but the most distinguishable of them consists of three upright red sandstone pillars. Voldemort knows we're coming, so defending the sites is not important to him." He frowned. "I've never been to Avebury. It's actually a Muggle tourist site, from what I understand." The look on his face clearly indicated his feeling about Muggle tourists. 

They were to be avoided at all cost. 

Albus grinned at his expression. "I believe that Voldemort is going to start the ritual in Avebury. I'm sure he'll be casting a charm to keep the Muggles away. Once we Apparate there with our 'surprise' attack, he'll ambush us. I believe that he will then force us to Apparate to Machrie Moor. It's more secluded, away from prying Muggle eyes. All indications are that he plans on actually conducting the Sentient Healing Ritual there, but we won't be sure until we see the location to where Draco and Hermione Apparate." 

Severus let out a harsh laugh. "It doesn't matter where Voldemort chooses to go. Our Aurors will follow him to the ends of the Earth, if need be . . . it's all going to be a game between both sides . . . that is, until the very end." 

"Voldemort is in for one hell of a surprise," he added with unmistakable arrogance. 

Albus' eyes gleamed. "We're going to send out some of the members of the Order of the Phoenix once Hermione and Draco arrive at the first henge site. Care to guess who is being sent?" 

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but alright, I'll bite. Who are you sending?" 

"Harry Potter and Ron Weasley." 

The Potions Master threw up his hands in despair. "You've got to be kidding. Do you think it wise to send those two emotional blighters out by themselves? I know that they have a lot of experience with the Dark Lord, but in my opinion it's only been a matter of luck that has saved them in the past. I don't intend to rely on luck where Hermione's life is concerned." 

"Who said anything about them going by themselves?" Albus had an evil light in his eye. 

"Oh bugger!" 

  
***************************** 

Everything seemed to be moving quickly and slowly at the same time. Hermione knew from her previous encounters with Voldemort that it was like facing an oncoming collision in an automobile. The autos traveled very fast, but the mind perceived everything in slow motion. 

They were surrounded by the giant stones, and the magic coming from them was absolutely palpable. It appeared that the Headmaster had been correct and indeed, they found themselves in the circle at Avebury. While it was usually inundated with tourists, it seemed that Voldemort's servants had already cast an Unplottable Charm, as well as a Distracting Charm around the site, leaving it completely devoid of Muggles. The stillness of the air was spooky. 

"Did you ever get the feeling you were being watched?" Draco gave a stage whisper as he regarded the henges surrounding them. A stone altar resided in the middle of the circle. He was about to make another joke when he caught the look on Hermione's face. He quickly closed the gap between them and held her close, whispering in her ear. 

"You have to look more excited, Hermione. Voldemort will sense your fear." He made it look like they were groping each other in a passionate embrace. 

Once again, they'd Apparated with two Death Eaters to the place where the ritual was to be held. Or at least, to where the beginning of the ritual was to be held. Voldemort had not arrived yet. 

Hermione returned his embrace and whispered, "Actually, I'm doing pretty well, all things considered. My stomach is tied up in knots, though." She was dressed in the robes of The Order of Chiron and she had both her wands in her pockets. The wands were an important part of the ritual. 

As they were standing closely together, they heard another "pop" and whirled in unison. Voldemort was standing next to the altar, two golden goblets in his hands. 

He looked even more terrible in the sunlight of the late afternoon. His skin was an ashy gray and he hunched weakly against the altar. As he set the goblets on the altar, three more Death Eaters appeared, one bearing a pouch. The other two immediately pointed their wands to the ground behind the altar, and with a surge of magic, a large bonfire appeared. 

"Come closer," Voldemort murmured to Hermione and Draco. "I need your assistance in setting up the altar. I don't have to ask if you've completely memorized the Ritual, do I? I understand that Dr. Granger has what the Muggles term, a 'photographic memory'." 

"That's correct," said Draco proudly. "My darling is the most brilliant witch of this generation, aren't you, my love?" Hermione grinned at him affectionately. 

They all went about setting up the Altar. 

The end was very near. 

***************************** 

"I can't believe this." Ron's voice was an exaggerated, harsh whisper. 

"What? What can't you believe?" 

"That it's happening . . . it's finally happening." Ron was hunched behind a tree, cautiously peering around it as he calculated his next darting movement. Harry was perched behind another tree, about five metres away. 

"Do you think you two can keep your voices down before an army of Death Eaters descends upon us and curses us into oblivion?" Ron and Harry jumped, looking around frantically. 

Somehow, Severus had managed to find his way to Ron's tree and was looking at him with undisguised disapproval. The sunlight was beginning fade and it cast shadows on the Potions Master's face, giving him a dark, menacing look. The scowl only enhanced the effect. 

"How the fuck you've managed to stay alive all these years is beyond me." Severus' voice was heavy with weary resignation. 

"Sorry." Harry didn't sound sorry at all. 

They stood in silence, peering at the stone henges in the distance, until they heard a noise behind the tree to Ron's left. Another bright red head popped around the tree. It was Bill Weasley, right on time, a radiant smile on his face. Bill had been recruited as one of the Charm Breakers. He grinned at Ron, but didn't say a word. 

All around them there were quiet, audible pops as Aurors and Charm Breakers hid in the forest around the Avebury henge site. 

The Aurors who'd been recruited for this job were all Apparation specialists. Like Muggle missiles, they were able to hit their target with pinpoint accuracy. They'd spent months practicing precision group Apparations, which was critical to The Plan. Each Auror had Apparated to a place behind a tree or a large bush, hidden from sight. 

In the distance, they could see Hermione and Draco standing within the circle of stones, as well as the two Death Eaters who'd Apparated with them. As they were watching, Voldemort suddenly appeared with three more Death Eaters in tow. 

The Charm Breakers began advancing on the site, using the stealth of the trees to hide themselves as they moved ahead. Harry, Ron and Severus stayed put with the other Aurors, awaiting the signal that the wards had been cleared. 

Ron regarded the Potions Master before commenting. "I thought you were supposed to stay out of sight, until the very end." 

Severus snorted. "And leave you two to handle this by yourselves? I don't think so. I'm staying here until Voldemort takes the Order of the Phoenix to the final ritual site. Only then will I leave this place and join you. I'm keeping an eye on you in the meantime," he whispered harshly. 

"Whatever," muttered Ron. It galled him to think that Severus Snape didn't think they were capable of pulling this off without him hovering. 

They stood in silence, the only sounds being the rustle of leaves from a slight breeze coming from the south. 

After a couple of minutes, Severus heard a faint noise behind him and whirled, wand extended as he regarded the figure in front of him. Bill Weasley gave him a cheeky grin and put his finger to his lips. 

"Shhhh . . . the bogeyman might hear you." 

Severus rolled his eyes and put down his wand. "Weasleys," he said in disgust. 

Bill moved nearer to the Potions Master, his face grave. "You're not going to believe this, Professor, but we've done a preliminary inspection of Voldemort's wards and it seems they can be broken with only a couple of moderately complex Charm Breaking spells. Oh, the wards are sophisticated enough, but still easily broken." His voice betrayed his surprise. 

"I don't know why that fact should astonish you, Mr. Weasley. Voldemort is counting on us breaking his wards so that the Order of the Phoenix can make its appearance. The Dark Lord is very arrogant. He apparently doesn't think that this would raise our suspicions. He's depending on us to be so intent on attacking him that we don't notice how easy he's making it." 

Bill shrugged. "I'm sure you know more about "The Psychology of Voldemort" than I do, Professor." 

Severus glared at him. "I could write a book." 

"You must be so proud," Bill thought. Memories of his years as Snape's student had taught him to wisely keep his musings to himself. 

Instead, he said, "And now?" 

"Now we wait, Mr. Weasley." 

********************************** 

Voldemort surveyed Hermione and Draco with an insincere look of affection. He took the golden goblets and set them on the table. Hermione could see that they were already filled with the potion needed for the Sentient Healing Ritual. She knew from what she'd read in "Arcanus Sentiens" that her goblet was the one adorned with rubies and diamonds, while Voldemort's goblet was adorned with emeralds and amethyst. The remaining Death Eater opened his pouch and produced several orange candles, a white hydrangea blossom and a vial of snow, taken from the Cairngorms in Scotland. These were laid out in a linear fashion on the altar. The candles were then lit. 

Unsurprisingly, Voldemort turned his back on Hermione to talk to Draco while the other Death Eaters were busy setting up the wards. It was the perfect opportunity. 

She reached into a pouch around her neck and taking out the Soul Shattering Potion, she poured it into the Dark Lord's goblet. 

"This is a part of the game," she said to herself. "He knows I have the potion and he knows I'm pouring it into his goblet. In fact, he's counting on it. But it's not what he thinks," she thought smugly. 

Once he was done speaking with Draco, Voldemort walked over to Hermione, and taking her hand, he kissed it reverently. 

"You look lovely, my dear. Are you ready?" 

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be." 

"Mr. Malfoy?" 

Draco nodded and took his place behind the altar, next to Voldemort. 

Voldemort was clearly anxious to start and he was short with his instructions. 

"Your wands, please, Dr. Granger." 

Hermione suppressed an inward shudder and handed Voldemort both her wooden wand and her selenite wand. He placed them parallel on the altar, about ten centimetres apart, and then bisected them with his own. Taking the goblets, he placed them in the squares formed by the three wands. 

The sun was just starting to set as the Dark Lord began the ritual. 

"Night of lit candles, darkness turns to light," he intoned. 

"Everything she touches, changes," murmured Draco. 

"Feast of waxing flame, fire of heart and hearth, fire on the mind," Voldemort continued. 

"Flickering of spark, quickening of air, warming into inspiration, thawing her innocence," said Draco. 

Hermione took up the intonation: 

"I am the darkness at the source of the well.  
I am the place where the waiting seeds swell  
I am the cave of the earth's serpent's sleeping.  
All things wait in my cairn's keeping." 

"I am bereft and lonely," said the Dark Lord. "I am cold. I cry out for the comfort of the dark cairn, for the shielding peace of the dark veil." 

Draco addressed Hermione. "Sacred physician and spiritual healer, wise woman and herbalist." 

Voldemort pleaded in his prayer: "Wrap me in the cloak you laid on Miach's grave. Soothe my hurts and be a balm to my soul. Guide me when choosing remedies. Be with me in this time of pain and uncertainty." 

"So mote it be," said Hermione. 

"So mote it be," answered Draco and Voldemort in unison. 

Voldemort picked up the two goblets and handed the ruby encrusted one to Hermione. They both put the rim to their lips and began to drink. 

Suddenly, in a breadth of powerful magic, the Order of the Phoenix instantly stood before the Dark Lord. 

***************************** 

Draco couldn't help but hold his breath. 

Albus Dumbledore appeared even larger than life and Draco could have sworn that a white light was radiating from his body, giving him the appearance of an avenging Archangel. 

Apparently the Headmaster had quite the floor show in store. Draco stuffed the urge to snicker. 

Even Harry Potter seemed otherworldly. Draco squinted at him, noticing that his hair seemed to be blowing from the force of an invisible wind. His scar was clearly visible on his forehead and it stood out in sharp splendour. 

"Damned show-off," Draco muttered. 

Both wizards had their wands extended and they were surrounded by Flitwick, McGonagall, Vector, Lupin, and Ron Weasley. 

Voldemort looked at them with unconcealed glee. The second after Albus and his "army" had descended upon the henge circle there were echoing "pops" of Apparition. Death Eaters appeared behind all of them, dressed in Dementor black. Their gray masks served their purposes by giving them all a dull, lifeless look. As if they were one, they all shouted, "Expelliarmus", and confiscated the wands of all the members of The Order of the Phoenix. The Death Eaters then stood behind them and pointed their wands at each member's head. 

They were all disarmed and trapped. 

The Dark Lord looked at them scornfully. "If you're waiting for me to shatter, I'm afraid you'll have a very long wait." 

"W-w-what happened? Why isn't the potion working? Why are these Death Eaters here?" asked Hermione. 

"I didn't drink the potion, you dense woman!" Voldemort spat. He looked at her in loathing and disgust. 

"I'm afraid, my dear, that you've all been victim to a horrible treachery, isn't that right, Mr. Malfoy?" 

Draco smirked. "That's right, Hermione. I'm afraid there has been a change in plans. You see, I really don't love you -- in fact, I hate you." He looked over at the Order of the Phoenix. "I hate all of you," he said arrogantly. He paused to sneer at Hermione. "I can't believe you fell for it. I would never betray my Lord." 

Hermione looked as if she'd been punched in the stomach. 

"Tut, tut, my darling," said Draco. "You'll probably get over it, if you live long enough." 

"You bastard!" she screamed in anguish. 

"Shut up, you stupid girl!" Voldemort shouted. "I've got work yet to do!" He pointed his wand at Draco and said quietly, "Finite Incantatum." The Tracking Charm was instantly dispelled. He then dispelled the Tracking Charm on Hermione. The rest of the Death Eaters did the same to each member of the Order of the Phoenix. 

As they were murmuring the spell, there was another surprising sound of Apparition and appearing in front of the Order of the Phoenix was Lucius Malfoy. He had a woman with him, her hands bound, and her face covered by a blindfold. Draco felt his heart drop to his feet at the sight. There was no mistaking the bright red hair. 

Lucius was holding Ginny Weasley hostage. 

Voldemort let out a delighted laugh as he grabbed the wands off the altar. One of his Death Eaters walked forward and seized Hermione by one arm and the Dark Lord clutched Draco by his shoulders. 

They all disappeared as if they'd never been there. 

****************************** 

Machrie Moor was an enchanted place, the stones laid out on a flat plane surrounded by rocky hills. Once again, Albus had been correct in his assessment that this was the actual site where the ritual was going to take place. Draco took small comfort from this. 

He had to protect Ginny. She couldn't get caught in the crossfire. By the look on Potter's face, The-Boy-Who-Lived felt the same way. As if reading Draco's soul, the Headmaster gave him a warning look. 

Draco surveyed his surroundings quickly, noting that everyone had appeared almost simultaneously, arranged in exactly the same place and order which they'd been at Avebury. The new altar held all the ritual objects, including a new set of goblets. 

Voldemort broke the silence as he picked up a goblet and walked towards Hermione. 

"We are all gathered together," he began pompously, " To unite this man and this woman in holy matrimony." He raised the goblet to her and laughed at the stunned looks on everyone's faces. "Only temporarily, you understand, just until I'm healed." He walked over to Ginny and took off her blindfold. He ran a scaly hand down her face, as she shuddered. "When the time comes, my dear, I'll reveal myself to you in my former splendour and claim you." 

He whirled suddenly to gaze at Draco, as if gauging his reaction. Draco stayed perfectly impassive, but he felt uneasy. What was that all about? 

With an evil grin, the Dark Lord went back to the altar and laid out the wands in their proper positions. It was apparent that Voldemort planned on undergoing the ritual once again, only this time, he intended to complete it. 

If that happened, they were all dead. 

In that instant, Severus Snape appeared suddenly, all dark threat and steely intimidation. His face was set in a severe sneer, but he couldn't help giving Voldemort a sarcastic, triumphant smile. He had his wand squarely pointed at the Dark Lord. 

"Move away from Dr. Granger, Tom," he thundered. 

Voldemort just chuckled. "Well, I can't say this is a surprise." He turned to Draco and added, "Although I had to hear about it from someone else. Did you know about this, my boy?" 

Draco shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry, my Lord. It seems that the Order of the Phoenix didn't trust me as much as I'd thought." 

"It doesn't matter," said Voldemort. He pointed his wand at Hermione. "Come any closer, Severus, and she dies, Sentient Healing Ritual, or no Sentient Healing Ritual. And then I'll unleash my Death Eaters." He added in a dark whisper, "I know what she means to you." 

Severus stood very still. 

Voldemort pointed to a group of Death Eaters who'd Apparated behind the main group, and nodding his head towards Severus, he dispatched one of them to the Potions Master. The Death Eater confiscated his wand and then the Dark Lord commanded him to cast a Binding Charm on the former spy. 

Voldemort looked infinitely pleased with himself as he contemplated Snape. 

"You'll recall that I know all about your capacity for wandless magic. If you make any untoward move, I'll order my Death Eaters to kill you all on the spot. They have orders to kill in the event any of you try to escape." 

He pointed at Severus. 

"Behold, Traitor," he shouted dramatically. "You are to bear witness to my glorious victory!" 

Hermione chose that moment to snort. "You're crazy if you think I'm going to undergo the ritual with you now." 

Voldemort snarled. "Obviously, you need a little motivation, Dr. Granger. I had so hoped that Severus could observe me in my former glory, but it looks like that is not meant to be." 

Before anybody could move . . . before they could even utter a sound, Voldemort cast The Killing Curse on Severus Snape. They could all see the green light as it surrounded the Potions Master like a bolt of lightening. He fell to the ground in a crumpled mass. 

Hermione let out a piercing scream that seemed to penetrate everyone's soul. It was one of the most horrible sounds Draco had ever heard, as if she were in her own death spasm. He felt a grief so heavy, he thought he was going to pass out. But it wasn't enough to break his concentration as he'd put a new plan into action. As everyone's attention had been on Severus, he'd used the distraction to make a furtive movement at the altar. 

Nobody noticed. 

Draco inwardly cursed his uncle. It had long since been decided that Severus was going to appear as a "distraction" to Voldemort. They hadn't counted on the Dark Lord turning on him in such a vicious manner. 

It was stupid not to have anticipated it, in retrospect. 

Draco thought about what he'd just done. "This has to work," he thought to himself. "I think I have Voldemort's number on this one." 

Albus looked over at Severus frantically and noticed that he was breathing shallowly. "He's still alive!" he shouted in triumph. Before he could make further comment, Voldemort let out a cruel laugh. 

"Of course he's still alive. In my weakened state, I cannot cast a fully potent Killing Curse. But he's only got about ten minutes to live, by my calculations. That's just enough time for Dr. Granger to undergo the Sentient Healing Ritual with me. With my powers amplified, I can save him." 

"Why would you do that, if everybody is just going to die anyway?" Hermione's voice was a whisper. 

"You're just going to have to take my word on it," said Voldemort, snickering. "Personally, I want Severus to live so that he can see my triumph. Victory is sweet, after all. Come now, Dr. Granger, we're wasting time. If you don't do it, I'm ordering my Death Eaters to kill everyone now, ritual or no ritual." 

Hermione looked at Draco and there was something in his face . . . something which gave her hope as he nodded imperceptibly at her. She could almost hear his voice in her head telling her that it was their only chance. 

Draco had successfully carried out the plan. She could sense it. 

Everything seemed to be happening as if in a dream. Draco and Hermione quickly murmured the words of the Sentient Healing Ritual, as Voldemort responded in kind. The ritual itself only took about three minutes and Hermione could feel Severus' life ebbing away with each passing moment. 

Voldemort picked up the goblets from the altar and whirling on Draco, he let out another horrible laugh. 

"You think you're so clever, don't you, my boy?" He sneered. "I know all about your complicity with the Order of the Phoenix. I know that your plan all along was to betray me and that in fact, you want Ginny Weasley for yourself." 

"How . . ." began Draco in horror. 

"Your father told me. He's been following Ginny Weasley around for the past two weeks. Did you know that your father is an Animagus? A Black Falcon, if I recall. This morning he told me of a touching scene between you and Miss Weasley in the rain, outside Hogwarts. He overheard everything, including the fact that Severus Snape is still alive. You were very careless, you stupid boy." 

Draco visibly cringed. Oh gods! This could be trouble! But then again, it might work to their advantage. Draco barely had time to think before the Dark Lord waved his hand dramatically. 

"Enough of this," shouted Voldemort. "I have one other little trick up my sleeve." He paused in delight. 

Hermione felt a roil of nausea. For the first time since this all began, she felt a wave of despair. "We're all going to die," she thought sadly. 

Voldemort gave Draco a calculating look. "If you'd been paying attention, Mr. Malfoy, you'd know that it doesn't matter which goblet I drink from. The goblets are purely symbolic, but it's not critical to the healing that I drink from my own cup. If you've betrayed me, I'll know soon enough." 

With that, he switched goblets and handed Hermione the one that was meant for him. 

Hermione felt a surge of terror and Voldemort took note of the look on her face. 

"I take it you don't trust me," said Draco softly. His voice was dull and flat. 

"You sound surprised, Mr. Malfoy," answered Voldemort smoothly. "I'll deal with you later . . . I don't think you're going to be with us much longer. Ginny Weasley belongs to me. You were very stupid to think otherwise." He smiled cruelly before turning to Hermione. 

"Drink up, my love," he said with a smirk in his voice. 

Harry looked on in horror. "No!" he shouted as he surged forward. The Death Eater who was guarding him grabbed him by his robes and pulling him back, punched him hard in the face. Harry staggered, but didn't fall. 

"I think I have my answer," said Voldemort harshly. "If you don't drink it, you die here and now. If you do drink it and it has the Soul Shattering Potion in it . . . you die as well. Your only hope lies with Mr. Malfoy. You'd better hope that he didn't carry out your plan." 

Hermione looked pleadingly at Draco. 

"I didn't do it, Granger," said Draco softly. "I couldn't go through with it. I want to live, and I'm not apologizing for that. I'm taking my chances with the Dark Lord. Please, my Lord," he murmured to Voldemort. "I didn't go through with the plan. That must count for something." 

"Out for number one, as always, eh Malfoy?" Hermione spat scornfully. 

Draco drew himself up proudly. "It's to be expected, you stupid bitch." 

Hermione looked at Draco with a palpable fear, but he only looked back at her with a stony look on his face. 

Did he betray them? Would he really do that? 

"No," she thought resolutely. "He would not." 

As she reached for the goblet, she noticed something that made her heart sing. 

Draco winked at her. 

It was imperceptible, and only somebody who knew him well would notice it, but the twinkle in his eye was unmistakable. 

"The little wanker," she thought with sudden affection. "The beautiful little wanker." She was careful to keep the look of apprehension on her face. 

Looking Voldemort in the eye, she raised her goblet to him. He returned the gesture and waited for Hermione to drink first. She emptied the goblet and looked at him. 

Nothing happened. 

Chuckling, Voldemort said to Draco, "You chose wisely, my boy." Then he drank his potion. 

The effect was almost immediate. 

A metallic green light, very similar to the Killing Curse, began to swirl around the Dark Lord as he fell to his knees. 

"You son of a bitch!" he shouted at Draco, as the light became stronger and began to change shades. 

When Voldemort had cast the Killing Curse on Uncle Severus, Draco had poured a vial of the Soul Shattering Potion into Hermione's goblet. Future historians would say that it was all part of Lord Malfoy's legendary ability to think on his feet. 

In the end, Draco had read the Dark Lord like an open book. The slimy bastard had been ultimately incapable of trusting anyone. Draco had known, deep in his gut, that Voldemort would never drink the potion that was meant for him. 

And now that decision was going to cost the Dark Lord his life. 

Suddenly, everything moved very, very quickly. Sirius Black, who had been watching the events through the Traceless Tracking Charm that had been cast on Voldemort, dispatched a new set of Aurors. With one loud, unified pop, Machrie Moor was surrounded by Ministry Aurors who cast simultaneous Stupefying hexes on all the Death Eaters. 

Voldemort writhed on the ground as the energy swirled in an angry force around his body. 

With the Order of the Phoenix completely freed from the Death Eaters, they pointed their wands at Voldemort and began the incantation they'd been practicing for weeks. Draco and Hermione joined in the spell, amplifying its effects. At the first words of the Soul Shattering Spell, Voldemort cursed loudly. 

And then his image began to change as a vortex of green light swirled harder and wider. 

The scales began to fade from his body and his features took on a more human form. His hair thickened and darkened, curling around at the ends. Everyone looked on in horrified fascination, but they did not break the incantation of the spell. 

"Ginny," he moaned, looking at her with pitiful eyes. "I love you. Please . . . " 

As Ginny looked upon the very image of a teenaged Tom Riddle, the spell reached its maximum energy as his soul began to shatter. 

It should have been a moment of great joy and triumph. 

Instead, as if seeking his last bit of revenge, Voldemort reached out to Ginny as if to draw her into the vortex and take her with him. There was a surge of energy towards her that was sudden and unexpected. Hermione could only make out a blurred figure pushing Ginny out of the way. Instead, Voldemort's shattering energy touched the figure, making it crumple to the ground. It took a horrifying moment for her to realize what had happened. 

Ron Weasley had pushed himself in front of his sister, saving her life. 

A loud, shrill scream was heard from Voldemort as Albus yelled, "Everybody down!" 

In a huge, amplified explosion, Voldemort's soul completely shattered and the only thing left to show that he'd ever existed was a deep, scorched hole in the earth. 

Hermione barely looked at it and immediately stumbled to her feet towards the downed figure of Severus. 

She was vaguely aware that Harry and Ginny were gathered around Ron and she could hear Ginny's sobs. "He's not breathing," yelled Harry. 

Hermione turned towards them, instinctively beginning to make her way to the injured Ron Weasley. She stopped short. 

Severus. 

Severus needed her. He was seconds away from death. 

She could hear Harry yelling at Ron to wake up. 

Ron needed her. 

She fought a wave of nausea and looked up into the face of Albus Dumbledore. 

For as long as she lived, Hermione would never forget the look on his face. His eyes were like thunder and his voice was loud and terrible. 

"They're both dying, Hermione," he roared. "You must choose!" 

Hermione hesitated, which caused the Headmaster to point at her in a gesture of commandment. 

"YOU MUST CHOOSE!" 

His voice held the force of a thousand armies. 

In that moment, Hermione chose. 

She crawled towards Severus and rolled him over, breaking the Binding Spell. She brushed the hair out of his face. "I love you," she murmured, as she bent to kiss him with all the love . . . all of the healing in her soul. 

Under ordinary circumstances, the Sentient Kiss was a beautiful thing to watch. However, in the midst of war and chaos, it was just another unexpected and amazing occurrence . . . one in a long list of incredible things to have happened that night. 

Ginny comprehended that Hermione had chosen to bestow her Sentient Kiss on Severus Snape. 

"No," she whimpered. "You can't . . . " 

She began running towards Hermione, but Draco intercepted her. 

He held on to her tightly. "I'm sorry, Ginny. Hermione has only one Kiss and Severus is her Soulmate. She has had to make a terrible choice. Please try to understand. If Severus dies, I don't think she'll have the will to go on. I'm sorry . . . I'm so sorry," he whispered as he tightened his arms around her. She sagged against him in her grief. 

As Hermione kissed Severus, the colour began to return to his face and a gold light enveloped his body. A sudden image of a phoenix appeared above them and then, as if pulling Death from Severus' body, the phoenix let out a beautiful song and rose to the sky before disappearing. 

Draco could see his uncle give a shuddering breath and saw his hand clench in a fist. Hermione looked at him tenderly as his eyes fluttered open. 

"Is it over?" Severus whispered. 

"It's over," she whispered back. Tears welled up in her eyes and she looked away from him. "Oh Severus, I'm so sorry. I c-c-can't . . . I j-just can't . . . " 

He looked bewildered and started to sit up. 

She pushed herself away from him and stood, searching for Harry. 

Their eyes met, as Harry rose above the prone figure of Ron Weasley. 

"He's dead, Hermione. Ron's dead," he said dully. 

Hermione looked as if she were going to vomit. 

Oh Ron! What have I done? 

"I've killed my best friend," she thought irrationally. She looked into the anguished, grief-stricken eyes of Harry Potter, as their gazes locked. He looked like he wished he were dead, too, and Hermione reeled at the sight of it. For the first time since everything started, he began to sway as if he were losing his strength. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "Oh God . . . what have I done? I'm so sorry, Harry." 

Before anybody could comprehend . . . before anybody could say anything, she Disapparated. 

Hermione Granger suddenly vanished from Machrie Moor without a trace. 

TBC 

********************************** 

*Sigh* 

I'm sorry about Ron and I'm sorry to leave it here. This was an extremely difficult chapter to write, I actually cried. As we know from these uncertain times, war is hell . . . don't let anybody tell you otherwise. 

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. I try to do my best for you. My usual thanks goes out to Elizabeth who helped me figure out some of the "plot snarls". She's invaluable! 

I love you, girlie!   



	25. Chapter 24: Start

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


Author's Note: Some of you were confused about whether or not Hermione and Voldemort actually experienced the completion of the Sentient Healing Ritual, so I thought I'd explain: With the ritual potion tainted by the Soul Shattering Potion, it was rendered useless for healing purposes, so no, they never completed the Sentient Healing Ritual. That's why Hermione still has her magic. 

Again, the usual Disclaimers apply. And now on to Chapter 24: 

*******************************  
I was just guessing  
At numbers and figures  
Pulling your puzzles apart 

Questions of science  
Science and progress  
Do not speak as loud as my heart 

Tell me you love me  
Come back and haunt me  
Oh and I rush to the start 

Running in circles  
Chasing our tails  
Coming back as we are 

~From the song, "The Scientist" by Coldplay 

*********************************** 

Chapter 24: Start 

  
In the aftermath of the Final Battle, there was total anarchy and disarray. The air was smoky and the holy place was littered with fallen Death Eaters and confused Aurors. In his mind, Draco could still see the unfamiliar spectacle of Severus Snape staggering to his feet, an utterly disoriented and befuddled look on his face. He was almost unrecognizable as he stared at the spot from where Hermione had disappeared. 

It was then that Lucius Malfoy, ever the opportunist, chose to make his Last Stand. 

Even now, six weeks later, Draco still could feel the whiz of the green energy as it shot from his father's wand towards his head. If it hadn't been for Ginny Weasley, he'd probably be spending eternity right now exchanging insults with her fallen brother. 

He looked down at his father's tombstone and smirked. 

For political reasons . . . reasons he still failed to grasp after all these weeks, Ministry Aurors chose to Ennervate their captive Death Eaters, just long enough to bind them and begin Apparating to Azkaban. They said later that they wanted to afford some dignity to the Prisoners of War, which, in Draco's opinion, was certainly more than any of them deserved. It was then, with true Malfoy flair, that Lucius seized the day, and before he could be bound, he pushed his Auror away, pointed his wand at Draco, and yelled "Avada Kedavra" as he was shoved to the ground by the mortified Auror. 

Still stunned by her brother's death, Ginny had been wrapped in Draco's arms, as he was practically carrying her to keep her from falling. She'd intuitively stiffened a split second before Lucius had uttered those fatal words, and then had violently thrown her weight against Draco as the syllables came tumbling out. They went crashing to the grass as the green energy zoomed over their heads. 

And then a really amazing thing happened. 

The deadly green light shot past Draco and Ginny, only to stop suddenly in front of one of the henges. It was as if an invisible shield had been placed before the stone and in a ricochet worthy of Peeves, the energy shot back, hitting Lucius Malfoy square in the chest. He was dead before his head hit the ground. 

Draco contemplated the new headstone he'd just had placed at his father's graveside. 

"Here Lies Lucius Malfoy - Killed By a Rock Acting in Self-Defense," it read. 

"Oh Draco . . . you didn't," said a soft voice behind him. He turned to smile at the diminutive redhead. 

"Don't you like it, dearest?" he asked playfully. 

"It's terribly disrespectful," Ginny giggled. She tried to keep her laughter from escalating by placing her hand over her mouth. Instead, she let out an unladylike snort. 

"If it makes you laugh, then it stays. It's our final revenge." 

She looked at him in wonder. How was it that he knew exactly the right thing to say? 

She brushed a stray strand of hair out of his eyes as they embraced each other. Spring had finally arrived and the air smelled of sunshine and flowers. They began walking down the cobblestone path in Hogsmeade Cemetery, ambling slowly as they made their way towards Ron's resting place. They'd made a habit of coming to visit him every Saturday morning. 

Ginny really hadn't thought that Draco would go through with it, but indeed, he'd chosen to have Lucius buried in a very public place, amongst the Muggle-born and Pureblood wizards alike. It had been the ultimate insult. He had taken great delight in the idea of his father's ghost mingling with the riff-raff. 

"Besides, they are all the same now," Draco had told her, matter-of-factly. "Dead." 

He'd looked at her closely when he said that, reading her reaction to his unsentimental view of death. After all, Death played no favorites. 

Draco had barely left her side since that night and although it was hard to believe, he'd been a great consolation to her. Ginny had had her fill of wailing and keening from Molly, and Draco, while being completely respectful of Mrs. Weasley's feelings, had made a great point of showing his light-hearted side. His grinning face was becoming a fixture at Sunday dinners, much to the confused dismay of her brothers.  
  
He told Ginny that he could be this way because he'd seen death so many times before, that it failed to intimidate him anymore. Maybe someday, he told her, he'd really examine his feelings on the subject, but for now, he allowed Ginny to grieve in her own way, without judgment, staying up with her during the long hours of the night as she remembered her brother. He wouldn't allow her to elevate Ron to sainthood, but he told anybody who would listen that, in his vastly superior opinion, Ron Weasley was a true hero. He meant it in the deepest sense of the word and while "hero" had been bandied about in describing Draco's actions that night, he'd firmly rejected the label. Ron Weasley was another matter, though. He'd given up his own life to save his sister and Malfoy was almost reverent on the subject . . . very eloquent in fact. It seemed to bring great comfort to Molly Weasley. Her motherly instincts kicked in and in an instant, decades of resentment against all things Malfoy evaporated. 

She reacted by feeding him mercilessly. 

Ginny's remaining brothers had secretly marveled at it, all the while giving outward signs that they still couldn't stomach a Malfoy in their presence. Arthur Weasley just knowingly looked on, the barest hint of a smile on his face as he watched his daughter and the newest Lord of Malfoy whispering to each other, oblivious to everyone around them. 

Ginny thought about all the wrenching changes that had occurred in her life over the last several weeks. The only good things to have come out of it was her discovery that she was stronger than she knew and that she was deeply in love with Draco Malfoy. 

She was absolutely terrified of telling him so. 

Instead, she distracted herself by thinking about what had occurred in the immediate moments after Voldemort's soul had shattered. 

In the split second after Hermione had Disapparated, Harry had followed her. It was as if he was trailing the very essence of her magic . . . as if he already knew where she was going. 

Of course, that was the Great Mystery. Nobody had seen either of them since The Final Battle and nobody knew where they were . . . not even Severus Snape. Ginny silently shook her head. 

"You're thinking about them, aren't you." It wasn't a question. 

"I can't help it. They've been gone for six weeks and while I understand that from Harry, Hermione is a different matter. I can't believe she'd leave Professor Snape like this. He needs her." 

Draco snorted. "As if that changes anything." 

She rumpled his hair. "You really must work on that cynical side of your nature. They must be going through something horrible if they've chosen to stay away this long." 

"I'm struggling to be charitable. I wouldn't have thought her capable of this." His voice was steely quiet. 

"Draco, she sent an owl saying that she was alright and that she would come back when she was ready. Obviously she's not, at least, not yet. " 

Draco pouted. "She's being selfish, Ginny. I know that she's all torn up about your brother's death, and she probably feels very guilty, but really . . . your mum and dad needed both Harry and her to help them get through this. And if Harry supposedly loves you so much, why isn't he here?" He couldn't keep the scorn out of his voice at the mention of Harry Potter. 

Ginny had to admit that Draco had a good point. 

Lord Malfoy was on a roll, as he stopped to give her a dark look. "Not to mention Uncle Severus. It's as if he's become a walking zombie since she left. How did she think he'd react?" He sighed, not expecting an answer. 

Ginny noticed the unforgiving expression on his face. "Haven't you ever been so afraid of something that you just couldn't face it?" she asked. "Instead of facing it bravely, you just ran away?" 

She had no idea about his personal demons and Draco looked quickly away from her. She caught the expression of shame on his face, but didn't comment. Instead, she reached up and caressed his cheek. 

"And you're a wonderful nephew to help him through this tough time." 

Draco shook his head sadly. "I'm completely useless, Ginny. He's been a total bastard to everyone and he hides away in his rooms, refusing visitors. It's as if he's never had a happy thought in his life. I'm really worried about him." 

He said this as they rounded a corner towards Ron's grave. As if giving an image to his very words, they were stunned to see Severus Snape standing next to the magnificent monument, gazing down at Ron's name inscribed on the stone base. 

He looked like utter hell. 

********************************* 

Wales is rolling moorlands and frozen mountains. 

It has very long place names like "Bread of Heaven" and "Merthyr Tydfil", which lends a rather enchanting mental picture to people who have never been there before. One thinks of faeries and bereaved ghosts, but the reality is a country of deep deforestation and industrial ugliness in the midst of ancient tradition. 

It's an incredible juxtaposition. 

Which was why, in part, that Harry and Hermione chose to stay there. Well, "hide" was probably the more apt word. They both felt an affinity for the land, which simultaneously radiated both beauty and unsightliness. They chose to stay in the countryside on the outskirts of Aberaeron, in a dingy cottage with no electricity or running water. Not that anybody noticed them there. They didn't venture out of the house and they shut out the world with drawn curtains and warded doors. It was undoubtedly an unhealthy reaction and they stayed like that for a week, oblivious to the newspaper headlines at home screaming, "Where are they?" 

Two days after Ron's death, Hermione had her first nightmare. 

She'd dreamt that they were together, brewing a love potion in Snape's class, with her directing the preparations in her usual bossy tone. Ron had looked so relaxed and happy, but upon drinking the potion, he suddenly turned into Voldemort and began to shatter. His eyes opened wide and he looked at her accusingly. "You've killed me," he moaned in agony. "Why have you killed me?" Then he exploded. 

She woke up screaming. 

Harry was right there with her, holding her as sobs wracked her body, her breathing loud and harsh. She'd trembled in his arms, crying for what seemed like hours before she fell back into an exhausted sleep. 

Two hours later, Harry woke up screaming. 

And so it went, for the better part of a week, as they purged themselves of their grief until their tear ducts were empty and Harry feared that they would dry up and turn to ashes. Not that he minded really, but Hermione had too much to live for, despite what she thought. 

From the first moment she'd Disapparated, he'd known . . . known that she'd gone to their cottage on Porth Beach, in Cornwall. After they'd left Hogwarts, Harry had secretly bought the land and had built a quaint cottage overlooking the ocean. They'd made a pact that the only time they would ever come to this place would be if all three of them were together. Nobody in the outside world knew of it and it had been a wonderful place to hide after past stresses with The Dark Lord. 

They hadn't been there in over a year, but Harry knew that this would be the first place she'd go. 

They tried to stay there the first day . . . Hermione had refused to look at Harry and had collapsed at the foot of Ron's bed, wailing about how she'd killed her best friend. Harry had been stunned by her reaction. He knew how much she loved Ron and he knew what it had cost her in making that horrible choice, but she'd frightened him with the vehemence of her guilt. He decided then and there that he would dedicate himself to helping heal her demons . . . ironic really, given that she was a Master Healer, yet she seemed unable to do anything to pacify her own soul. 

"Medice, cura te ipsum," he'd thought, that day. 

Physician heal thyself. 

He refused to leave her side. 

As it turned out, they both had a hand in healing each other and as the days stretched out, Hermione allowed herself to think about other things. 

Like Severus. 

She was going to have to face him and as difficult as it was to think about it, every day that she was away made it harder and harder to go back. She was so afraid of what her reaction might be. Hell . . . his reaction, too. She missed him, it was true . . . but she was in no shape to see him. 

Hermione needed more time. 

Harry spent countless hours with her and the first thing that he'd done, when he'd initially seen her in Cornwall, was to forgive her. Not that she'd needed his forgiveness, only that she needed for it to be said aloud. He told her over and over again that only Voldemort was to blame, until finally, she began to believe him. It was his greatest gift to her .. . . helping her to believe in everything he said. 

Gradually, things got better-- day by day. It started with the small remembrances, such as the time Ron coughed up slugs during their second year or that peculiar shade of green he'd turn after ingesting a particularly horrid potion, usually of his own making. They'd had a good chuckle over that one. 

Laughter is a healing balm and it was hard not to think about Ron and remember the many times he'd made them laugh through the years. 

That's how the transformation began. Despair gave way to the tiniest bit of faith. 

And with it, Hermione's dreams changed. Ron appeared regularly to her, never speaking . . . only looking at her with mirthful blue eyes, his mouth curled in a crooked grin. He looked strong and healthy and Hermione would wake feeling comforted, somehow. Her logical side tried to dismiss it as the meanderings of a hopeful subconscious mind, but she knew deep in her heart that he was at peace. 

Harry began to tentatively talk of home and Hermione felt a stab of contrition as she knew what his ministrations may have cost him. He'd left Ginny alone for weeks now and it wasn't likely that she'd forget. Forgive maybe, as she had a generous nature, but in all likelihood, Harry Potter had blown his last chance with Ginny Weasley. But he'd made his choice and after what she'd experienced at the Final Battle, she knew that even the hardest of choices could be made with certainty. 

He voiced no regrets. 

They'd opened the windows and had done simple magic . . . little things to brighten the look of the cottage and it helped to soothe them as they let the sunshine in. Harry had even ventured to the wild, overgrown garden in the backyard and had cut some daffodils to put into a vase of water. He displayed them on the kitchen table. 

At her first glimpse of the daffodils, Hermione was immediately transported to the gardens at the Hunting Lodge. The sunny smell of the flowers brought her back to the place of her greatest love and suddenly, she longed for him with a fierceness she hadn't felt in several weeks. For the first time since they'd come there, she allowed herself to remember him . . . to remember everything that came before. 

It was an awakening . . . a tiny little breath of hope. 

That night, in her dream, Ron spoke to her for the first time. 

She was lounging on the porch at the Burrow and Ron had appeared before her, eating a big helping of his mother's mince pie. 

"Paaah," he said, pie crust flakes flying from his mouth. He stopped chewing and grinned. 

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione felt her ethereal self grin back. 

Ron took a moment to finish chewing and he swallowed before saying, "Pie. It's me mum's favorite recipe." He sat down heavily and Hermione swore she felt the "whoosh" of air as he bounced on the cushion of the chair. 

He regarded her insolently. "It's lovely to see you, my dear. I've been trying to talk to you for ages. It's very noisy in your brain . . . perhaps you could do with a bit of mental housecleaning?" 

She looked at him in amazement. 

"And don't even tell me that you know why I'm here, because you think you know everything." He shoved another scoop of pie in his mouth. 

"So why are you here, then?" 

He looked at her with patience. "I would have thought that you'd know that already. Goodness Hermione! You're really off your game." Hermione began to tear up at the playful sound of his voice. 

He looked at her gently. 

"I don't blame you, Hermione. For anything . . . please know that. You must go home, my darling. It's alright to let me go . . . I know that we'll always be a part of each other, but our time together is over. At least temporarily," he added with a wink. "I'll save you a seat at Merlin's Pub." 

She smiled at him before it hit her. "I don't even know if I have anything to go home to, Ron," she said sadly. "I've hurt Severus in the worst possible way. I abandoned him." 

He grinned at her reassuringly. 

"You must go back to the start, my love. Where it all began . . . he's waiting for you there. No doubt, you've loads to tell him." He gave her a knowing smile worthy of Dumbledore, before fading away. 

She woke with an answering smile on her face and sat up in her bed. Getting up, she padded down the hall to Harry's room, where she watched him as he softly snored, a peaceful look on his face. 

"We're ready," she thought. 

It was time to go home. 

***************************************** 

Severus Snape, on the other hand, was anything but at peace. 

In fact, under the word, "tormented" in the Wizard Dictionary, there was probably a morose picture of Severus Snape, his snarling voice telling everyone to "piss off" before stomping from the frame. 

He was in danger of becoming a caricature of himself, not that he gave a fucking bloody hell in Hades. He hadn't looked in a mirror in weeks, but if the reactions of the students and staff members were any indication, "Greasy Git" didn't even begin to describe it. He was well past that, possibly to the point of no return. 

Looking at the marvelous splendour that was Ron Weasley's grave, he sighed. The monument was made of exotic scarlet marble, which had been imported from the quarries of wizarding China. It was adorned with a huge statue of a roaring lion and it sparkled in the morning sun. It was a sad commentary that it took a noble death for Weasley to get the attention for which he'd so desperately craved. He'd been posthumously awarded just about every medal, every citation and every accolade that could be bestowed upon one wizard. 

"And in the end, so what?" Severus said bitterly to the monument. "You'd have probably done a better service to the world had you lived. It's a waste. I'm a waste." 

Sadly, no voices were heard to contradict him. 

"At this moment, Mr. Weasley, I long to trade places with you." 

He could almost hear the redhead snort. 

"It's true," he said softly, feeling ridiculous that he was talking to a dead man. But ghosts were real, especially the newly dead, and he had a feeling that this ghost was actually listening. He felt a pull towards Weasley . . . something undefined, but unmistakably there. Perhaps it was because he felt some responsibility for his death, but more likely it was because he felt that it had been a very poor trade. 

He suddenly felt cold . . . chilled to the bone. 

"I don't know why I'm here. I don't know what I need from you . . . I just feel like I needed to tell you . . " His voice dropped to a whisper. "I wanted things to turn out so differently. Not that it matters in the end." 

The only sound that greeted him was that of the gentle wind. He reached out to tentatively touch the marble. 

"She's proud of you, I'm sure of it. I can't tell you anything more because I haven't seen her and I have no idea what she's thinking or what she's feeling. I can only imagine . . . " 

He dropped his head, as fatigue swept over him. . . He felt the fatigue in a way that hadn't been with him since before Hermione came back into his life. He looked sadly at the stone. 

"I fear I've lost her for good. I don't think she'll ever be able to look at me and not be reminded of your death. It's just too much of an obstacle." 

"Nonsense," said the marble stone, sounding suspiciously like Dumbledore. Severus was startled to see Albus stepping away from the back of the monument, a rueful look on his face. 

"Before you snarl at me, I should tell you that I was not spying on you. I just came to visit Mr. Weasley." He looked sadly at the inscription. "Forever young," he murmured, as he moved his fingers across Ron's name. 

Severus looked at him grimly. "I suppose you're going to tell me that everything will work out . . . that she and I will find our way back to each other. You're a fool to think so." 

Albus shook his head. "I can't say that. But I can say that you look like a man who has lost everything." 

"Haven't I?" 

"The way of love has no set path, Severus. Regardless of what happens with Hermione, you've got to pull yourself together. You're of no use to anyone, least of all yourself, while you're in this state." He hesitated before continuing. "I think a leave of absence is in order . . . now, now." He raised a hand to Snape's inevitable protest. "You need time away, Severus, I should have insisted upon it long ago," he soothed. "You've no idea what's in store for you, but you must be prepared to face Dr. Granger, either way. She said she was coming back and I've no cause to doubt her. You must go away and think, my boy. Think about how you can take control your life. Think about what you want to say to her. It would be a shame for you to make a mistake that could cost you a happy future. You must ready yourself." 

Severus only grunted. 

"Besides," Albus continued. "You're endangering the students . . . I've never seen you so distracted. Minerva overheard one of the students saying that you almost blew up a cauldron yesterday afternoon during Double Potions. You've never even come close to such a catastrophe." 

Severus was quiet for a moment, before saying, "Perhaps you're right." 

Albus grinned. "Now there's three words I never thought I'd hear you say." Severus glared at him before shrugging in defeat. 

"If I leave, I can't guarantee I'll come back," the Potions Master said. "Maybe the first step in my 'taking control' would be to quit this place and start a new life somewhere else. I've had several offers to teach and do research at the University level. Graehm Wentworth has been pestering me for years to come to Oxford." 

"I'm sure you'll make the right decision, Severus," Albus murmured. "If I may ask, do you have a plan as to where you're going?" 

"To Belize," Severus said with certainty. "I'm going to go to Belize to say my mental goodbyes to Hermione and then . . . I don't know, but I'm sure I'll think of somewhere to go." 

"I think you're being a bit premature," said Albus. "But do what you must." 

With a pat on Severus' shoulder, Albus Dumbledore took his leave. 

Severus felt the desolation of loneliness hit him and he was sure that he'd never felt lower in his life. He was leaving everything he'd cherished for the sake of a woman who, despite her love, could probably never look him in the eye again. 

He paused for a moment to take a last glance at the monument. 

"I'll make a new start of it, then," he said aloud. The thought of it gave him absolutely no comfort. 

When he turned around, he saw Draco and Ginny standing by a small gate, looking at him with the utmost pity. 

Growling deeply, he swore before Disapparating. 

TBC 

******************************** 

We're winding down, kiddies . . . we have one more chapter and then the Epilogue, so stay tuned. 

I'd also like to take the opportunity to again thank everyone who has reviewed this story. And while I'm writing for my own enjoyment, it gives me great pleasure to think that others are enjoying it too! Thank you all so much. 

And while I'm thanking people, once again I must make a special point of expressing appreciation to my beta, Elizabeth. She's been with me almost every step of the way and it means the world to me. Thank you, girlie. 

  



	26. Chapter 25: Sonata

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


Author's Note: For those of you who are wondering, "Whispers" is down and it appears that the address will change once the site comes up again. I will post the new link, in Ch 17, as there is a version of this story on "Whispers". 

With regard to the theme of this chapter: A sonata is a composition for one instrument, usually a keyboard, consisting of three or four independent movements varying in key, mood, and tempo. I thought it was a fitting theme . . . 

******************************* 

Over your breasts of motionless current,  
over your legs of firmness and water,  
over the permanence and the pride  
of your naked hair  
I want to be, my love, now that the tears are  
thrown  
into the raucous baskets where they accumulate,  
I want to be, my love, alone with a syllable  
of mangled silver, alone with a tip   
of your breast of snow. 

~From the poem, "Sonata" by Pablo Neruda 

************************ 

Chapter 25: Sonata 

Severus sniffed the sea air, his heightened sense of smell bringing him back to the time when he'd felt the first stirrings of love . . . when he'd first felt his heart beating for someone other than himself. 

How fitting was it, that Belize would now be the place from where he'd release that love? He'd been foolish to think it would last. He should have gone with his first instincts. 

"Everything comes full circle," he thought. Even the animals knew this. 

The sun was a deep pink and small wispy clouds decorated the eastern horizon. Turquoise water lapped on the white shore and Severus had to acknowledge its breathtaking grandeur. Belize was even more beautiful than he remembered, if that was even possible, but he couldn't really dwell upon its beauty. He made his way wearily up the stairs, to the hacienda on the cliff. 

He paused before opening the door. It was as if time had stood still and nothing had changed. Of course, that was the Big Lie, because everything had changed. He was suddenly struck by the paradox of it all. Everything and nothing had changed. 

He was alone now, as he'd always been, and he knew he'd better get used to it again. 

The bright colours of the living room startled him for a moment and he almost said her name aloud, but stopped himself. 

Albus was right. He had to snap out of it. His instincts were to go to the liquor cabinet, however, self-denial was deeply ingrained in his nature and he wasn't about to get thoroughly mashed just because he was feeling sorry for himself. 

It was only mid-March, and while the weather was gloriously warm, it was beginning to cool off as the evening sun was setting. He made his way over to the patio and opened the glass doors. A tepid breeze immediately assaulted his face and he couldn't resist taking in another deep breath. 

It smelled so pure. 

He stayed there, sitting on a brightly cushioned chair for an hour, making no sound. He barely moved. He watched the ocean, mesmerized by the rhythm of the waves as they beat against the shore. 

He finally allowed himself to think about her. He loved her more than ever, but his love was tinged with unbearable sadness. He pushed the feeling away violently, torn between wanting to dwell on his memories and wanting to forget he'd ever known her. 

Even during his dark moments, his rational mind would intrude, and he realized that he really didn't know what was going on in her head. He knew that if he was going to deal with Hermione, he had to start with that fact. 

"I know nothing where she's concerned," he'd thought, bitterly. A small, treacherous part of his soul had answered, "You know that she loved you. She may still love you yet." 

"Bugger off," he'd told his soul. 

But regardless of how she was feeling, she'd still left him alone and that had to account for something. There was meaning behind that, and Severus decided that no matter what had come before, she'd most certainly put her own grief above everything and everybody else. Above her own honor even. She should have stayed, no matter what. 

"Some Gryffindor," he snorted to himself. For the first time ever, he acknowledged to himself that maybe he just didn't know her as well as he'd thought. 

One thing remained constant: Throughout his ordeal, he'd avoided blaming Hermione. He'd avoided feeling anger, to be sure. He'd felt the full gamut of emotions where she was concerned, but anger and blame were just not there. He was most certainly angry at the world, but not at Hermione. 

He was much more comfortable thinking that it had all been his fault. Maybe he just wasn't enough for her. 

Getting up from his chair, he began to pace, finally concentrating his rage on her for the first time since she'd left. 

How could she have been so cruel? Why had she saved him, if only to abandon him? He would have preferred that she'd allowed him to die, if saving him meant going on without her. He shook off that maudlin thought, switching tactics. Maybe he hated her now and he just didn't realize it. 

"Bitch," he muttered, testing himself, but there was no real sentiment behind it. The word felt empty. 

He was almost relieved. 

Overcome by his chronic fatigue, he left the patio and made his way to his room. He pointedly ignored Hermione's former quarters and when he made his way to his bed, he emptied the contents of his robe pockets. With a murmured word, a small suitcase was instantly enlarged and he opened it. He absently hung his clothes in a closet, losing himself in the mundane task. When he was finished, he arranged his belongings around the room. He'd brought some books, a few parchments and a lone quill. He'd promised Albus an owl when he settled in. 

Severus finally approached the bed again, stripping naked before climbing in. It was too warm to sleep in bedclothes. Picking up the book he'd laid on his nightstand, he opened it to a random page, and began to read: 

"I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.  
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.  
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day  
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps." 

He flung the book on his lap. "Oh that's just bloody brilliant," he snarled. "Bloody Pablo Neruda. Just what I fucking need!" He violently threw the book against the far wall of the bedroom. 

It didn't make him feel any better. In fact, he felt regretful . . . it was one of his favorite books and he'd never treated a book with such callousness. 

"Sleep. I need to sleep," he said, as he willed his body to relax. He'd had years of dealing with trying to sleep while under great stress. He hadn't always enjoyed success, but this time he was able to empty his mind long enough to fall into a light, uneasy slumber. 

It was inevitable that he dreamt of Hermione. 

This particular dream was recurring. He was lying with her, limbs entwined as they were in the throes of wanton lovemaking. Oh Merlin, the sweet sounds she was making! He lost himself in velvet softness, her silky skin yielding to his touch. They were grabbing and clutching and caressing and there was the sensation of wet tongue. He felt his excitement gather as a single, intense vibration between his legs. 

She felt so real . . . her hand reached out to touch his cheek. 

"Severus," she whispered. 

"Hermione," he answered with a sigh. "Where have you been?" 

"Severus," she said again, louder, as if she hadn't heard him. 

"Severus, wake up." 

He was instantly awake and in a split second he made out the dark silhouette of someone standing over him, a hand touching his face. Letting out a guttural snarl, he hurled himself at the figure, grabbing on to solid flesh as he wrenched the person over. With catlike quickness, he pinned the intruder to his bed, muttering, "Lumos," at the same time. A soft golden light emanated from his wand on the nightstand, bathing them in a dim glow. His hand closed around a slender throat. 

Looking down at the figure under him, he was shocked at what he saw. 

Hermione was looking up at him with frightened, melancholy eyes. 

*************************** 

Ginny let out a soft laugh as she ran behind a tree in the backyard of the Burrow. Draco played along, chasing her until he grabbed at her arm, pulling her close to his body. He swooped in, nipping a tender earlobe as he held her tightly. 

"Don't let Mum see you doing that," she warned before they began kissing passionately. 

"We're behind a tree, sweetness," he murmured, briefly lifting his mouth from hers. "Not even Molly Weasley can see through trees." 

He absolutely adored kissing her. 

Her lips were full and soft and Draco enjoyed the feel of them against his own. While she projected an aura of innocence, she could still use her mouth to drive him completely mad with wanting. Things had progressed somewhat from kissing, and they'd spent the last few minutes exploring each other with groping, lustful hands. Draco was eager to see how far she'd let him go. 

He brushed his hand along the front of her blouse, pausing at the soft skin in the cleavage of her breasts. "I'm going in," he thought to himself, as he dipped his fingers down further. Suddenly he felt something sharp, prompting a yelp. 

"Feck! Something bit me!" He looked at her suspiciously. "I think your bra just bit me." 

Ginny looked a little sheepish. "Erm . . . I think the twins got into my scanties and charmed them to bite. They've done it before." 

"How utterly darling," Draco said sarcastically. "I'll get back at the little dobbers if it's the last thing I do. Perhaps I'll put something itchy in their skivvies." 

"It would serve them right," Ginny giggled, before being silenced with another wild kiss. 

"Giiiiiiiny!" It was Mum. Draco jumped as if he'd been caught with his pants down. "Now what?" he huffed, in exasperation. 

"Ginny! There's someone here to see you!" 

Ginny peered around the tree. "Who is it, Mum? I'm rather busy right now." Draco couldn't resist, and gave a gentle pinch to her backside. "Stop that," she admonished, with another restrained giggle. Draco only smirked. 

"It's me, Ginny." 

There was no mistaking that voice. 

Harry Potter had returned to the Burrow. 

Ginny was instantly paralyzed, not knowing what to do. Draco made the decision for her, tugging her arm and pulling her away from behind the tree. Harry, Draco and Ginny each regarded the other from across the yard, before Draco inevitably broke the silence. 

"It's about time, you bloody wanker." 

Harry did not look surprised to see him. 

He walked over to them slowly . . . it was like he was cautiously approaching an unexploded Dungbomb. He didn't take his eyes off Ginny, and Draco moved closer to her in an unconscious gesture of possessiveness. 

"Hullo, Ginny." Harry nodded at Draco, but his eyes never left her face. "Malfoy." 

"Potter." 

Another awkward pause. 

"Erm, so . . . I hardly know where to begin," Harry said, squirming under Ginny's intense appraisal. 

"How about at the beginning, when you bolted from Machrie Moor like the Demons of Hell were chasing you." Draco could barely keep his tone civil. 

"Believe it or not, Malfoy, I don't owe you an explanation." 

"Yes, well . . . you certainly owe one to Ginny. To all the Weasleys in fact." Draco couldn't help his morally superior tone. 

Ginny laid a hand on Draco's arm. "It's alright, Draco." She turned to Harry. "I knew you'd come here, sooner or later. How did Mum greet you?" 

"Oh, well . . . she was a little cold. Understandable, given what's happened. I apologized. For everything." He looked at Ginny closely. 

"Now there's a start," said Draco, condescendingly. 

Harry finally tore his gaze away from Ginny. " Do you mind, Malfoy? I need to speak with Ginny alone." 

Ginny moved to stand between the two of them. "Anything you have to say to me, Harry, you can say in front of Draco. I'm not sending him away on your account." 

Draco felt a surge of pride at her fierce words. 

"Please, Ginny," Harry begged. "This is hard enough as it is. I've already lost Ron. The least you can do is to afford me the courtesy of speaking to you in private." 

Ginny looked at Draco, and was surprised to see a look of approval glinting in his eye. "Nice touch," thought Draco. Apparently The Almighty Potter wasn't above a little pathetic manipulation of his own. He decided to be big about it. 

"I think that would be a good thing," said Draco, haughtily. "You've obviously a lot to talk about." 

Turning to Ginny he said, "In truth, I have somewhere I need to be. Professor Dumbledore asked to see me, and I told him I'd drop in sometime this afternoon. I think this is where I should leave it. For now." Before Ginny could retort, he leaned down and gave her a very slow, very leisurely kiss. He made sure to linger a bit longer than was necessary, as he whispered, "It's alright, love. I'll see you in a few hours." He could feel Harry seething, which was very gratifying. 

She looked up at him gratefully and nodded. He squeezed her hand as he walked away. 

Pausing as he passed Harry, Draco couldn't resist a dig. "Needle dick," he said scornfully. 

"Nancy boy." 

"Wack-off." 

"Pillow-biter." 

"Now that hurts, Potter." 

Harry snorted. "Go away, Malfoy. I'm sure things will be settled by the time you slither back." 

"Oh yes, I'm sure they will." As he walked away, Harry heard him mutter, "Pisshole." 

Draco Malfoy always had the last word. 

******************************* 

Severus stared at Hermione for a brief moment before recoiling. It was then that she noticed that he was naked. Her eyes widened and she couldn't resist lowering them to take in his smooth, lean form. "Whoa," she thought. "He's as beautiful as ever." Severus let out a strangled sound as he leapt from the bed and grabbed a night robe that had been strewn across the chair. He quickly covered himself, much to her secret disappointment. 

She slowly sat up in the bed as they stared at each other. 

"What are you doing here?" he managed in a choked voice, unwilling to move any closer. 

"After everything we've been through, surely you didn't think that I would stay away forever?" 

"I didn't know what to think," he began, his voice rising. He took a deep, calming breath, but his body was shaking despite his best efforts to appear unaffected by her presence. He folded his arms to his chest, in an apparent defensive gesture. 

"I suppose you didn't," she conceded. "Oh, Severus. I've made a mess of things, I know. I hardly know where to begin." 

"I'll save you the trouble," he snarled. "Get out. Go away. Leave me alone." 

Hermione's lip began to tremble. "It's worse than I imagined," she thought. 

"Please, don't turn me away," she whispered. 

"Don't you mean, 'Don't abandon me, the way I abandoned you?' " he asked bitterly, as he backed away from her further. "I don't know what you expected, but the truth is, I've learned to live without you these past weeks, so don't concern yourself on my account. I'm doing just fine, I've moved on." 

"Have you? Is that why you're trembling? Is that why you can't look at me? Because you're fine and you've moved on?" 

Severus' lip curled up in a sneer. "It doesn't matter, Hermione. You've made your feelings very clear. I don't need you anymore. What is it the Muggles say? Actions speak louder than words. Your actions tell me everything." 

"You don't know anything about my actions and that's totally my fault. I've come to explain." 

"Don't bother, " he said in a quiet voice. 

"Severus, please. I was wrong to leave you . . . so very wrong. I know it's not an excuse but I haven't been in my right mind for a while. I couldn't face you." 

"And why is that? Is it because you were afraid that I'd be a constant reminder of Ron Weasley's death? Or because you feel like you made the wrong choice? Which is it, Hermione?" 

"I never felt that way!" she shouted. "I've never, ever regretted the choice I made! You are the love of my life and even though you may not feel that way about me anymore, I still love you with everything in my heart. It was never that I didn't love you. I left because . . . because . . . " her voice dropped to a whisper. "I left because I felt that I had failed everybody, especially you." 

Severus couldn't hide his disbelief. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" 

"Oh, my love," she said, and for the first time since she'd seen him, the tears began to fall. She looked away from him. When she finally spoke, it was in a soft voice and Severus had to strain to hear her words. 

"I realized that one of the dynamics of our relationship has been that you've put me up on a pedestal. It was apparent to me that you felt like I'd somehow 'saved you'. I'd saved you from the Dark and I was your redemption. What a pack of shit that was! The truth is, I'm not perfect . . . I'm not your savior and in fact, I'm quite capable of making horrible, hurtful mistakes. I was terrified of letting you see my imperfection." 

Severus was surprised at her words. "I never wanted perfection, Hermione. I've lived long enough to know that it doesn't exist. Even the most beautiful things have flaws." 

"I've never given you proper credit for your wisdom," she answered. "I know that now." 

She got up off the bed and walked over to the window, overlooking the ocean. The night was clear and the full moon illuminated her face, giving her a haunted look. She finally spoke again. 

"During the first week after Ron's death, I was absolutely incoherent with grief. Looking back on it, it was as if I'd left my own body, to be replaced by someone I didn't know . . . someone who was weak and loathsome and horribly tainted. I was having terrible nightmares and I couldn't stop crying, no matter how hard I tried. I thought I'd be a burden to you. For some reason, I couldn't let you see me like that . . . in fact, I didn't want you to see it. I thought you wouldn't be able to handle my shame and my grief. I'm sorry. I was so wrong." 

"What was it about me that made you think that I couldn't see you in a realistic light? That I'd be so horrified that I'd reject you?" 

Hermione began to cry even harder. "I don't know!" she wailed. "It was so unfair and I was so blind! You've never given me cause to doubt your unconditional love. Oh God! I've hurt everybody! The Weasleys must hate me now, not that I blame them. You probably hate me too," she said in a small voice. 

Severus was taken aback. When he spoke, his voice was very quiet. 

"I don't hate you, Hermione. I could never hate you." 

Hermione let out a relieved cry and a wet sniffle. Severus groped in his pocket for a handkerchief, gingerly handing it to her. He waited patiently as she loudly blew her nose before attempting to hand it back to him. He didn't move to take it, only looking at her with amusement. "Keep it. Please," he said sardonically. It was so adorable, so totally Severus, that Hermione began to cry even harder. 

"Oh, Severus! I'd give anything to take it back, to go back to that moment when I left Machrie Moor. I'd give anything to have stayed and faced things bravely! I'm a coward, I know. It's just that . . . I don't know if this matters, but there's something I never told you about Ron Weasley." She looked him in the eye before speaking softly. 

"He was my first . . . my first lover. That's what made it so hard." 

Severus started in surprise. The truth was, they'd never discussed their past relationships. He'd figured that they'd get around to it someday . . . that they had all the time in the world to get to know each other even more deeply. "He was your first?" he asked tentatively. "Obviously, I didn't know that. I would never have guessed." Her reaction to Ron Weasley's death was beginning to make even more sense to him. 

Hermione nodded. "The reality is, if it hadn't been for Ron, I would never have been able to be with you. I could never have fallen in love with you, I'd have been much too terrified. But Ron was so gentle and compassionate. It was our 7th year and I was totally ignorant about love. In some ways I still am, but he opened my eyes to the possibility. We were never 'in love', but he was somebody I trusted completely. We realized that we were ill suited as lovers, but the experience left me wanting the real thing. For years though, I thought that I could live without it. That is, until I got to know you. I never wanted anybody so badly in my life. I still want you, that will never change. I told you once that I would always love you, that nothing would ever change that fact. And nothing has . . . I'll love you until the day I die, for what it's worth. And now I've ruined everything." 

For the first time since she'd come to him, he was moved to compassion. Moving closer to her, he tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. She reached up to cover it with her own. 

"Hermione," he said longingly. It was the first time he'd spoken her name like that since before The Final Battle. The sound of his voice moved her and she began to shake. 

Severus decided that he had to make her comprehend what her leaving had done to him. "Don't you understand, Hermione? I thought that you had realized that you'd made a mistake . . . about everything! I was sure that you realized that I wasn't worth it, that I wasn't worth the life of your best friend. It was our first true test and we failed miserably. I thought you didn't love me anymore and it about killed me." 

Hermione felt the sharp pain in his voice. "Oh Merlin! What have I done to you?" she cried. "I never stopped loving you, Severus. I know that I don't deserve it, but can you please find it in your heart to forgive me? Please forgive me for leaving you! I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I promise!" She moved away from the window and began to pace. 

"I admit that I'm selfish, but to be honest, I want it all!" she continued passionately. "I want my career, of course, but I also want the cottage in the country and the white picket fence. I want a garden and a husband and I want to have loads of children with you! Please forgive me," she asked again. "I'm nothing without you." 

"That's not true. You're everything, with or without me," he said quietly. "And I do forgive you, Hermione. Merlin knows you've forgiven me a hundred times for my faults." Before he could even finish his words, she'd flung herself into his arms, crying softly. 

"I love you! I love you so much," she whispered, burying her face in his neck. 

Severus felt a burden lifting from his soul as he held her. Hanging on to his bitterness and resentment had taken a terrible, draining toll and in the moment that he truly forgave her, he felt lighter and more alive than he'd felt in weeks. He felt his heart singing and was filled with a peace that he hadn't felt since the first time that he'd made love with her. 

"I love you, too," he said softly. "Very much." 

He reached a hand to her cheek and lowered his mouth, as his lips touched hers for the first time in an eternity. She answered his kiss passionately, radiating her love and want in a way that left no more doubt. He kissed her firmly, with no hesitation. 

It was like coming home. 

They lost themselves and began moving against each other lustfully. She could feel his desire against her thigh and she tore her lips from his. 

"Make love to me, Severus. Please. I need to feel you inside me again." 

"Yes m'am," he answered with a growl, overcome with passion. They began to mindlessly tear at each other's clothing before landing heavily on the bed. Hermione cried out as his hand reached up to cup her breast, teasing her nipple. He kissed her deeply again and she groaned as she felt his erection pressing against her hip. 

"I'll never leave you again. I swear it," she said between kisses. He felt the truth of her words as he lifted his hips over hers. 

"I know," he said softly. "I know you won't." He pushed himself inside her deeply, with a sure aim, and she cried out in joy as she felt him moving within her body. 

It was even better than the first time. 

************************************* 

Draco made his way to the Headmaster's office, once again wondering at Dumbledore's summons. The Headmaster had seemed distracted since the fall of Voldemort, but Draco figured that he was once again turning his full attention to the task of educating the students of Hogwarts. Not that their education had suffered . . . the staff had worked hard to shield most of the students from the ugly events leading up to The Final Battle. 

He knocked tentatively on the Headmaster's door and Albus greeted him warmly as he gestured to a chair by the fireplace. 

Draco was surprised to see the room full of wizards, including several members from the Ministry of Magic. The last time he'd seen them gathered together, it was during a ceremony, where he'd been awarded the First Order of Merlin. Arthur Weasley was there, along with Barnaby Twitter, a dry bureaucrat, who'd been named Minister of Magic in the wake of Cornelius Fudge's inevitable resignation. Lucius used to derisively call him "Bitter Titter" because of his sour disposition. 

"I'm sure you're wondering why you've been asked to come here, Draco," said the Headmaster, carefully. "We've been locked up in meetings all day and we wanted to discuss the future with you. The future of wizarding Britain," he added in a reverent, important tone. 

"That's very sweet, but what does it have to do with me?" 

Albus sighed and looked to the group until his eyes met Arthur Weasley. It had been decided that given the delicacy of the matter they wished to discuss, Arthur was the best candidate to approach Draco with their proposal. Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. 

"It has everything to do with you, Lord Malfoy," he said. 

Draco was surprised to hear Mr. Weasley address him by his formal title. Throughout the past weeks, he'd settled into a rather comfortable relationship with the Weasley Patriarch. It was surprising, really, since he'd always thought Arthur Weasley to be a rather pathetic character . . . dirt poor, inept . . . completely undeserving of Draco's respect. In fact, he'd enjoyed seeing his father humiliate the elder Weasley during his childhood years. 

But all of that had changed in the wake of The Final Battle. 

For one thing, he was Ginny Weasley's father and that, in and of itself, prompted gratitude from Draco Malfoy. And for another thing, he was very susceptible to charm, a fact that Draco completely exploited. Pretty soon, they'd settled into easy conversations about Quidditch and Ministry politics in the aftermath of The Final Battle. Mr. Weasley was shrewd and observant, giving Draco a perspective that he'd never thought of before. Sometimes they disagreed, but Malfoy found himself rethinking his previous impression of the man. He also knew that there was more to Arthur Weasley than meets the eye. 

Draco now raised an eyebrow to Mr. Weasley. "Please, go on," he murmured. 

"You and I have had many discussions about what comes next, where wizarding Britain is concerned. As I recall, you told me I was . . . how did you put it?" 

"Frightfully naïve, is what I think I said." 

"Yes, well . . . I still think that it would be better to continue as always, but even I must admit that too much has changed now. My colleagues have spent the better part of the morning convincing me of that." He turned to Dumbledore, who gave him a small nod. 

Arthur continued. "As you know, we have many Death Eaters in custody, but there were a great many more witches and wizards who, while they supported Voldemort in principle, did not participate in the more 'notorious' activities. There is a lot of bitterness and resentment out there and if our community is to heal, we must make a gesture of reconciliation. That is where you come in." 

Draco looked at him in confusion. "I've no interest in politics, Arthur. You know that." 

"Draco," interrupted the Headmaster. "This goes beyond mere politics." He turned and exchanged a knowing look with Mr. Weasley. 

"Indeed," Arthur said. "The Ministry has decided that some of Voldemort's former supporters must be brought back into the fold. They must have representation in our government, or else, their dissatisfaction will grow again and we will face another uprising. Most of Voldemort's supporters came from old, aristocratic families, like the House of Malfoy." He paused before continuing. 

"We have concluded that the only thing that will be accepted by them, is nothing less than the establishment of a monarchy. A monarchy that will work in tandem with the Ministry." 

Draco was flabbergasted. 

"A monarchy? Are you completely mad? Do you mean, 'God Save the Queen' and all that rubbish?" 

"It's rather more like, 'God Save the Prince', as in, 'Lord Draco Malfoy, Prince of Avalon'," said Arthur quietly. "Is any of this sinking in yet?" 

Draco felt faint. "Oh, yes . . . right then. Ha ha ha. You had me going for a minute there, mate." 

Arthur did not change his facial expression. "I can assure you that I'm deadly serious, my Lord. The only wizard who will be accepted by both sides is you. You're a war hero for The Cause, yet you are one of them as well. You're the only choice, really." 

Albus nodded. "We all agree that you're the most suitable candidate, Draco. Voldemort's former supporters probably will not entirely accept you at first, after all, you did betray the Dark Lord. But they're a pragmatic bunch and your bloodline is indisputably pure. I believe we can get them to see that this is in their best interest." 

"It's in everybody's best interest, my Lord, even yours," added Arthur. 

Draco looked at Mr. Weasley as if he had sprouted two heads. "Erm . . . well . . . I hardly know what to say. I'm flattered and all." He quickly warmed to the subject matter and batted his eyelashes in mock humility. "This is all so sudden," he said demurely. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to consult with the Royal Astrologers before giving you an answer." 

Arthur had to suppress a grin at Malfoy's cheekiness. Only Draco Malfoy would turn his being named the royal ruler of wizarding Britain into a supreme cosmic joke. 

He was beginning to really like the boy. 

************************************ 

Ginny and Harry stood alone, staring at each other for a long moment. Finally Harry cleared his throat. 

"I don't know if this means anything, but I'm sorry I left. And once again, I'm apologizing to you." He looked at her sadly. 

"Yes, well," said Ginny. "That ought to tell us something right there, don't you think? We were never meant to be, Harry." 

Harry felt a heaviness in his heart as he heard the inevitable truth of her words. "You're right, of course," he said. A part of him rebelled, wanting to try to win her over once again, but judging by the firm look on her face, he knew it was pointless. 

"I can give no excuses," he finally said. "Only explanations. Hermione was in a very bad way and she needed me. We needed each other, really. I suppose you could say that I made my choice, just as she made hers." 

Ginny looked at him with resolution. "And I've made mine." 

"But why does it have to be Draco Malfoy, of all people?" 

"Because he was there for me when I needed him. Because he's noble and honorable. Because he makes me laugh. He would never leave me in my darkest hour. Need I go on?" 

"Because you love him," said Harry, understanding it all for the first time. 

"Yes," she said, without hesitation. 

Harry looked down at this feet. "I never thought I'd say this, but I hope the two of you will be very happy. You deserve it. I'm not sure about him, though." He gave her a crooked smile. 

Ginny lifted a hand to pat him on the shoulder. "Draco deserves happiness, as do you. It's just not with me." 

They were silent for a bit and then Ginny had to ask him his plans. 

"I'm not sure," he answered. "I've been feeling out of sorts since Voldemort was defeated and not just because of Ron's death. You see, I always thought that I was going to be the one to defeat the Dark Lord. I thought it all rested with me. Yet, Hermione and Professor Snape had a hand in it, as well as Dumbledore and all the Order of the Phoenix, for that matter. Even Malfoy played a vital role. In the end, I didn't really matter much." 

He looked at her ruefully. 

"And, well . . . it feels different than I'd thought. To be honest, I always wanted to be a regular wizard and now I suppose that everybody finally knows that I am." 

Ginny began to laugh. "You're not 'regular', Harry. You'll never be 'regular'. 

Harry grinned and said, "Perhaps not, but now that Voldemort is gone, I need to find out who I really am. I must find a new purpose for my life." 

"And how will you do that?" 

"To begin with, I'm leaving Britain for a while. I need to travel alone and see what's out there. Despite everything, I actually feel rather optimistic." 

Ginny smiled at him for the first time in months. "Oh Harry, that's wonderful! You're not going to stay away permanently, are you?" 

"No," he answered. "I'd like to spend time with your family, if it's alright with you. I need to sort things out with everyone, before I go." 

"I don't mind, Harry. Just so you know, if you spend time here, you'll be running into Draco. I just thought I'd warn you." 

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'd say that having to spend time in the same room with Draco Malfoy would be akin to a penance of sorts. I suppose I deserve it." 

"Yes, and be nice to him." 

"Bloody hell," he muttered. 

*************************** 

Severus and Hermione completely lost track of time . . . making love, talking quietly, eating, sleeping and then making love yet again. They continued through the night, reestablishing connections that had been stretched thin, but never broken. 

They couldn't seem to get enough of each other, until finally, exhausted and happy, they dozed off. When Severus woke to morning sunlight, he knew . . . knew that his life was finally beginning. 

Hermione woke soon after and they looked at each other in amazement, as if they couldn't believe it was real. Severus broke the silence, giving her a loud kiss. 

She laid her head on his shoulder and brushed her hand on his chest, fingers playing with his dark hair. 

"Hermione?" She felt the vibration of his rich voice as he said her name. 

"Yes?" 

"Did you mean it? About wanting it all? You know . . . the house, the husband, the children?" 

Hermione saw the uncertain look in his face. 

"Well now, not just any husband," she said slowly, as she lifted her head to look at him. "I was thinking of someone in particular." She was inwardly starting to shake, but she was determined that he not see her nervousness. Could he be - 

He snorted. "Well then, you must be thinking of me. After all, you've spent the last twelve hours in my bed and if you didn't mean me, then I'd say you're a right tart!" 

Hermione shrieked in indignation. 

"Marry me, Hermione Granger." It wasn't a request. 

She started in surprise. "Is that an order?" 

"Do you want me to get down on bended knee?" He looked at her dubiously. 

"Would you?" 

His eyes softened. "For you, yes." 

"Then, there's no need. Of course I'll marry you." 

She grinned at the expression on his face. 

"You looked stunned, my love. Weren't you prepared to be answered in the affirmative?" 

He just let out a whoop, and grabbed her, kissing her thoroughly. 

Hermione broke away, laughing. "Severus, there is one more thing I need to tell you. Don't be angry with me . . . " 

"Now what?" he groaned inwardly. 

"Before I tell you, you must know that regardless of your marriage proposal, I would have told you anyway." She took his hand and placed it over her abdomen, where for the first time, he noticed a soft, almost imperceptible swell. 

"Say hello to your daughter, Severus," she said quietly. "I just found out yesterday morning. When I stopped at Hogwarts to look for you, I went to the Infirmary and ran a spell. I'm about seven weeks pregnant. It's very early, but very definite." 

He was speechless, but only for a moment. 

"F-f-father? I'm going to be a father?" 

Hermione smiled serenely, nodding. "A girl." 

And Severus felt his heart burst with joy. 

  
TBC 

*************************************** 

Author's Note: Just a few things: There is one more chapter left, which will be the Epilogue. And yes, for those of you who have asked, there will be a sequel, but it's going to center on Draco and Ginny. It's going to be called, "The Prince of Avalon", and Harry, Hermione and Severus will be there, too. More on that later. 

Let's just say that Draco has no idea what he's getting into, hehehe. 

My thanks goes out to everyone who has taken the time to review. Hearing from you has been most gratifying, it means a lot to me. And Elizabeth has remained a constant friend and critic throughout this whole process. Thank you, sweetie. 

  



	27. Epilogue: Shelter

Shattered  
By Adriana  
trixielou60@hotmail.com

  


Author's Note: This is the last chapter of "Shattered". I hope you enjoy it and remember: A sequel is in the works! I would also like to take this opportunity to recommend a story by white raven called, "Tea with the Black Dragon." It's just amazing! The main characters are Severus Snape and an original character (who is veeeeery cool). It's here on ff.net. 

"Shattered" is rated R for language and sexual situations. 

  
*************************** 

'Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood  
When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud  
I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form.  
"Come in," she said,  
"I'll give you shelter from the storm." 

Suddenly I turned around and she was standin' there  
With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair.  
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns.  
"Come in," she said,  
"I'll give you shelter from the storm." 

~From the song, "Shelter from the Storm" by Bob Dylan 

****************************************************** 

Epilogue: Shelter 

  
Severus popped a sleepy eye open, grimacing at the sunlight that spilled across the comforter on the bed. Giving a lazy stretch, he instinctively reached over to the adjacent pillow and noted that his wife's place was empty. Sitting up, his gaze swept across the bedroom. 

Hermione had initially insisted upon decorating their bedroom in bright colours and inevitably, they'd had a frightful row about it. They'd only been married for three months when they decided to change the look of the bedroom and it had been the first big argument of their marriage. There were some things that Severus Snape just couldn't change about himself and a personal aversion to anything cheerful was one of them. In the end, they'd compromised, and the room had been decorated as a study in contrasts . . . deep midnight blues and blacks, a flurry of white, with bright gold rugs and pillows thrown in for a splash of colour. The walls were the colour of the Belize sky at dusk. 

As he sat up in bed, he could hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom next to their chambers. He indulged in a wicked grin as he threw off the bedding and purposefully stalked over to the door, pausing to study his image in the full-length mirror. 

He still liked to sleep naked. 

Eyeing himself critically, he noted that since the fall of Voldemort, Hermione had worked hard to "fatten" him up, but her attempts had been futile. He was still slender as a rail, his metabolism never changing, even as his existence lost its "Life and Death" stresses. Luckily, the mirrors in their house were all Muggle-made, so he didn't have to suffer rude comments about his "skinny frame". He shrugged with indifference. 

It wasn't important . . . Hermione loved him just the way he was, and that was all that mattered to him. 

Creeping quietly into the bathroom, he allowed himself a moment to adjust his vision to the steam swirling around his head. Hermione loved hot showers, almost to the point of pain, and he liked to give her a hard time about it. It was a love that they both shared, however. 

He silently slid the glass shower door open and stepped inside. 

His wife had her back to him and Severus paused to admire her round curves. Since her pregnancy, she'd grown even lovelier, at least in his eyes, but Hermione insisted that she looked like a giant dumpling. The first time she'd said this, Severus had tried to argue with her, telling her that he still thought she was the most beautiful witch on the planet. His sincere compliment had prompted her accusation that he really didn't mean it, it was just his way of getting her to shut up. Then she'd fled from the room, crying hysterically, leaving him to wonder what the hell he'd said wrong. He now knew better than to argue with her about anything, at least while she was pregnant. 

Damned hormones. 

But that had been months ago and Hermione had finally settled into her pregnancy with a sense of peace and anticipation, and her crying jags had completely disappeared. While she said she still felt like a fat cow, at least she didn't bite his head off when he told her she was lovely. 

Stalking silently behind her, he reached around to caress a breast, causing her to yelp in surprise. Spinning her around, he caught her in his arms as the water bounced off her body to splash him. 

"Good morning, my darling," he said softly. 

She gave him a sensuous smile and pulled him in for a welcoming kiss. 

"Good morning, Severus," she answered. "I thought you were sleeping in." 

"I would be, but thoughts of my beautiful wife, erm . . . stimulated me and I just had to seek her out." 

Hermione looked down at his growing excitement and gave him a playful smirk. 

"So I see," she said smugly, as her hand reached down to grip him firmly. "Well, I have some thoughts on the matter." 

Severus reached to pull her close, nipping at her lips as he arched against her. "Enlighten me," he purred. 

Hermione let out a soft moan as Severus ran his hands over her rounded abdomen, kissing her ardently. He moved his fingers up to cup a breast. 

"You have magnificent breasts," he murmured. 

"They're for the baby, you oaf," she teased. 

Chuckling, he turned her around gently, pressing himself closer, as she positioned herself to accommodate his passion. He moved her hair off her neck and bit her earlobe playfully, surging forward. 

Suddenly they were interrupted by a most unexpected screech. 

"Daaaaaady! Daddy! Daddy! Daaaaaaaady!" 

Severus felt his manhood shrink at the sound and Hermione stifled a giggle. 

Leaning towards the shower door, Severus wiped the misty glass with his hand, creating ever wider circles until he could see a little figure standing in his bathroom, hands on her hips as she patiently waited for his response. 

Cautiously sliding the glass door open, Severus regarded his daughter with a stern look. 

"Arddun, what has Daddy told you about barging into his rooms? It is most rude, Littleness." 

"I know, Daddy, but this is really, really important." She said this very matter-of-factly, as if it explained everything. 

What could possibly be so important to a four-year-old? 

Severus raised an eyebrow and Ardunn just gave him a pained look. She was the perfect combination of Snape and Granger . . . tall and lanky, with dark, curly chestnut hair and rich black eyes . . . eyes that were shaped like Hermione's. On more than one occasion, Severus had given thanks to the gods that Arddun hadn't taken on some of his more unattractive features. 

Like his nose. 

Said little nose was turned up in obvious disapproval. Arddun's eyes narrowed as she caught a glimpse of her mother standing behind him, partially hidden. 

"Daddy," she said accusingly. "That isn't Mum in the shower with you, is it? Ewwwww!" 

Hermione let out a very loud sputter, before smothering her laugh with her hand. 

"Arddun," growled Severus, a warning in his voice. Arddun immediately changed tactics, as she tried to convey the idea that the world, as they knew it, was currently ending. 

"Daddy, this is im-por-tant," she repeated slowly, as if she was talking to an imbecile. Arddun had just learned the meaning of the word and now everything was "important." For once, Severus was unmoved. His daughter drew herself up and paused dramatically before speaking again. 

"It's Mordai," she said, with childlike anguish. "He's thrown up on my bed again." 

She gave him her most devastatingly plaintive look. 

Mordai was her new puppy, a gift from Uncle Harry. It was just one more reason Severus wanted to hex Harry Potter out of existence. 

In his lifetime, he'd survived several Dark Revels, a poisoning, and the Killing Curse, and yet, that puppy was going to be the death of Severus Snape, he was sure of it. He'd almost had a stroke when he'd caught the damned creature chewing on his favorite pair of boots. Hermione said his bellows could be heard for miles. 

"And this couldn't wait until later?" he asked Arddun, with mock-harshness. 

"No, it couldn't," she said patiently, with a shake of her head. "I have to get ready for Cousin Draco's wedding and now my bed is a mess. After that 'ass-si-dent' with the tadpoles, you said I couldn't do magic by myself," she said soberly. "So I've come to get you." 

It was typical Arddun Logic. 

Cursing under his breath so his daughter couldn't hear him, he growled, "I'll be out in a minute, Littleness. Run along now." He turned to give Hermione a regretful look. 

"I'm afraid we'll have to save this for another time," he whispered, as he reached in to give his wife a final kiss. 

"Ah yes," she laughed. "After all, This is IM-POR-TANT," she said, in a perfect imitation of their daughter. 

"Isn't everything?" he sighed. "I certainly hope our next child isn't so headstrong." 

Hermione grinned at his morose expression. "Cheer up, Severus. The odds are, he'll be even worse. Your mother told me that when it comes to 'Snape Sons', the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree." 

Severus shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "If he's anything like me, we're in for a wild ride. I'm sure he'll be telling me to 'fuck off' by the time he's fifteen." 

Hermione rubbed his cheek playfully. "At the very least, he'll certainly make our lives interesting." 

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of, my love." 

************************************************ 

The air was warm and still and the humidity was stifling under the summer heat. Two figures hid in the shadows behind a large monument . . . a tribute to the Heroes of the Great War. It was the perfect meeting place, as no one would ever think that such a plan was being hatched at that historical site. It was close to 2:00 a.m. and there was nobody else about. 

As an older man approached the pair, he saw that his Partner in Crime was currently in a fierce clench with a woman who looked to be only half-dressed. "She's probably a prostitute," he thought in disgust. They were leaning against the monument and her leather mini-skirt was hitched around her hips, as the young man groped and pinched her generous bottom. She was undulating against him and the smell of cheap whisky assaulted the older man like a slap in the face. 

"Get rid of her," he commanded, making the younger man jump in surprise. With a sulky expression, he pushed the whore away, cursing softly. "Another time, love," she crooned, before slipping past him and into the darkness. 

The two men regarded each other silently, before the young one spoke. 

"He's a pretender to the throne," he sneered, reading the other's mind. "An imposter." 

They were united in their hatred, but they had little else in common. The elegant older man regarded his counterpart, as if he were an insect to be squashed. 

The young man's hair was his most startling feature: fluorescent green and blue dreadlocks, cascading down a rather sigmoid shaped back. He was pierced and tattooed to within an inch of his life and he was the very picture of disaffected Muggle youth. The perfect disguise. 

"Indeed," said the older man. "He grown soft since the war. The only thing he cares about is clothes and parties and his prized flock of hippogriffs. It's ironic, really. I remember him as a skinny, awkward schoolboy. He was always so frightened of the creatures, a fact that irritated Lucius Malfoy to no end. Perhaps that's why he breeds them so enthusiastically now. He's still trying to prove something to Daddy." 

"He's a fool." 

"No, he's just out of practice. That is why he'll never be King." 

They were silent for a moment, before the younger one spoke again. "We're almost ready, my Lord. The wedding is in two days and our Plan is certain to go through without a hitch. Two days and the Monarchy will be no more. And Draco Malfoy--" 

The older man finished his sentence. "And Draco Malfoy will be dead." He took a flask from his belt and raised it to the other man. 

"Viva La Revoluccion," he said mockingly. He took a swig before handing it to Mr. Dreadlocks. 

"In two days," said the young man, "The world will be ours again. Harry Potter will see to it." 

"And the beauty of it is, he doesn't even realize it." 

The quiet of the night was punctuated by harsh, triumphant laughter, before the older man suddenly barked, "Do shut up, you stupid sod! You'll wake the neighbors." 

The laughter ended in a strange squeak. 

"Yes, my Lord." 

****************************** 

Draco paused before the mirror, taking the time to smooth his hair and arch an eyebrow at his reflection. He was dressed from head to foot in white silk, the only colour being provided by a dramatic, green velvet cloak and the various medals and ribbons pinned on his chest. His cloak was clasped at his neck with an interconnecting row of platinum links and diamonds. He schooled his face into a mask of bored detachment, which wasn't hard, given his present circumstance. 

Today was his wedding day, and he was dreading it like no other. 

He sighed as he turned to Stefan Harcourte, Vice Chancellor of wizarding Britain. 

"Stefan, do I have to wear all these ghastly medals and ribbons? I look like a Muggle clown. The only thing that would complete the outfit would be a big red nose and some bells for my shoes." He turned to look at himself sideways in the mirror. "And perhaps a big horn . . . " he said distractedly. 

The Vice Chancellor fought desperately to keep his face somber. 

"It's expected, Majesty. You've earned every medal and ribbon and you must display them on this, the most important of occasions." 

Draco snorted and turned to his reflection again, as the mirror murmured with a telltale lisp. "You look simply divine, Majesty. The colours go well with your complexion," it simpered, with practiced insincerity. 

"Oh, well then," said Draco sarcastically. "That's all that matters, I suppose." He reached to touch one of his medals. "Now, what was this for again, Stefan?" 

"You earned that after convening the Council of Nicea, when you helped avoid a war with France." 

"I remember that now . . . we sealed the deal with kidney pie. The French hate kidney pie, so I made them eat it. That's one of the reasons I love being Prince. And this?" Draco pointed to another medal. 

"That's for your work with the Order of the Phoenix." 

Draco smiled sadly. "Ah yes . . . the good ol' days. How could I forget?" He chose another random medal. "What about this one?" 

Harcourte's lip twitched. "That's for being named, Polo Player of the Year." 

"Oh, I remember that ceremony," Draco said with surprising enthusiasm. "The crème brulee was simply smashing." He pointed to another medal. "And this?" 

Stefan Harcourte was beginning to lose his patience. "You can pretend all you want, but the fact of the matter is, you're getting married today and there's nothing you can do to avoid it. You might as well quit stalling, my Lord." 

Draco sighed again. He was getting married all right. 

It was just to the wrong woman. 

There was only one witch on this Earth that Draco Malfoy wanted to marry and she had slipped away from him despite his best efforts to make her happy. He was the most powerful wizard in all of Britain, yet he had been completely powerless to stop Ginny Weasley from walking out on him, all those years ago. 

And now it was too late. It was too late for "Happily Ever After." 

His shoulders slumped with dejection. 

"Let's get this over with." 

As he walked over to the giant doors leading from his chambers, they opened magically, and he carried his head high as he stalked into the hallway. 

"Mummy, it's Draco! Draaaaaaco!" 

Draco could see a little girl, flowers in her dark hair, as she tore away from her mother to run down the hall to greet him. 

Arddun Snape was to be the Royal Flower Girl. Draco gave his first genuine smile of the day as he watched his cousin fly down the corridor. 

"Pumpkin!" he yelled as she leapt up into his waiting arms. He flung her high in the air as she squealed in delight. Then he spun her around, much to Hermione's dismay. 

"Draco! It took me all morning to fix her hair and now you've managed to dishevel it in less than thirty seconds." 

"That's what magic is for, Hermione. It doesn't matter, though. My Little Flobberworm is still the most beautiful girl in the world." 

Arddun curled her nose in Snape-like disapproval. "Flobberworms are ugly, Draco." 

"Don't let the flobberworms hear you say that." Arddun giggled, while Hermione looked at him closely. 

"Are you alright, Draco? You look . . . well, you look like a lamb to slaughter, actually. Are you sure you want to do this?" 

"As if I have a choice, Hermione. Look, love . . . we've been through this a hundred times. It's time for me to marry and if I can't marry the one I love . . . " 

"Marry the one you're with," finished Hermione. "I know, I know. But this is a mistake, Draco. I feel it in my bones." 

As they were making this exchange, Severus broke away from a group of servants and if the looks of relief on their faces were any indication, they were very happy to be out of his company. Severus' face was scrunched in a deep scowl. He'd been making sure that everything was ready for the ceremony because as "Best Man" to the Prince of Avalon, it had been his duty to see that Royal Protocol was followed with regard to the matrimonial ritual. It was a job he detested, but he bore it with the usual Snape penance. 

After all, he was Draco's closest advisor. 

"As if the little bugger listens to anything I have to say," he snorted to himself. He was dead set against this wedding and he had expressed his opinions repeatedly to Draco, but to no avail. Severus approached his nephew, who was busy making Arddun squeal by pulling on her curls. "It's time for us to depart," he said curtly. Draco gave him a pained look and nodded. 

"Dead Man Walking!" he yelled, as he led the procession of servants and wedding attendants out of his palace and onto the estate grounds, where the wedding was to be held. 

*************************************** 

It was a glorious day for a wedding . . . there wasn't a cloud in the sky and the sunlight reflected off the giant quartz crystals that were arrayed in a wide circle around the wedding party and guests. 

Draco stood still and erect within a smaller gold circle that had been magically placed on the deep green grass. Behind him stood several white marble pillars, a cascade of pink and white roses draping across each one. As Severus moved to stand next to him, the Prince scanned the small crowd that had gathered. 

He was looking for her. 

He knew it was futile. There was no way that Ginny Weasley would ever come to his wedding. 

He'd long ago gotten into the habit of searching for her bright hair amongst the crowds at various royal gatherings, but she almost never attended them. Still, they'd managed to interact some in recent months and he knew that deep down, she still loved him. It had given him some hope that they could work out their differences and find a way to be together. 

But things were very complicated. Incredibly complicated, in fact. 

From the moment he'd been crowned the Prince of Avalon, Draco Malfoy's life had ceased to be his own. He belonged to the People now and it was important that he put the needs of wizarding Britain before his own selfish desires. He'd wanted Ginny Weasley more than anything in the world, and he was willing to fight tradition, the royal court, his advisors, his mother . . . everybody, in order to be with her. 

However, in the end, Ginny had simply made the decision for him. As far as his broken heart could tell, she'd decided that it just wasn't worth the trouble. A sneaking voice in his soul told him that there was more to it than that, but it was far easier for him to believe that she'd simply rejected him . . . she'd left him and had gone on with her life. And now it was time for him to go on with his. 

With someone else. 

Shaking himself away from his thoughts, he looked upon the surreal scene of his closest friends and family gathered for what should have been the happiest day of his life. The ceremony they were celebrating that day was actually the first of two ceremonies: An intimate and private one, meant to bind him spiritually to his bride and to those who were dearest to them and then a second one . . . a more elaborate public gathering. That ceremony was meant to bind the new royal couple with the People . . . the "common man". 

He watched absently as the small crowd of wizards and witches parted and his future wife walked regally to the center of the circle to stand next to him. 

Even Draco had to admit she looked stunning. Interestingly enough, he couldn't take in the details of her dress, only that it was glowingly white, like her skin, and that it contrasted incredibly with her deep raven hair. He immediately met her almond-shaped violet eyes and couldn't help thinking that Blaise Zabini was probably, of all the women in the world, the complete and total opposite of Ginny Weasley. Perhaps that was why he'd chosen her. 

"She is the Anti-Ginny," he thought ruefully. 

A part of his brain knew he shouldn't be thinking of Ginny Weasley on his wedding day, but he just couldn't help it. 

Blaise looked at him adoringly and Draco felt a sense of panic. He broke out into a cold sweat and he had the sudden urge to run away and never look back. He felt himself poised on the edge of the abyss. Should he jump? Should he stay? 

As if sensing his inner turmoil, Severus leaned over to him and whispered, "Second thoughts, my Lord?" 

Before Draco could retort, there was a stirring in the crowd and a very annoyingly familiar voice rang from the throng. 

"Stop! Stop this farce now!" 

A dark figure shoved his way through the crowd but Draco knew even before he saw him . . . he knew who'd dared to interrupt the Royal Wedding." 

"Dammit, Potter!" he yelled. "How the hell did you get past the wards? I instructed Security that if you were to dare to show your little scarface at my wedding, they were to shoot first and ask questions later!" 

"Mummy," Arddun said loudly. "Why is Cousin Draco yelling at Uncle Harry?" Hermione quickly hushed her. 

Ignoring everything else around them, Harry focused his angry energy on Draco. "You're a liar!" he roared. "You've been lying to everyone! I think the wizards of Britain have a right to know who and what you really are! Not to mention, your future wife, Majesty!" he spat sarcastically. 

Severus was pinching the bridge of his nose, clearly irritated. Hermione gave him a genuinely worried look. 

A second voice was heard from the crowd, quiet but steady. "You're wrong, Harry." 

Draco sucked in a startled breath, as his heart began to thud painfully. 

It was Ginny. 

There was an audible gasp from the crowd as she walked to the edge of the circle. 

"Oh, Good Lord!" said Draco in exasperation. "Could this day get any weirder?" 

Ginny quickly made her way to the inner circle and as she walked past Blaise, the darker girl hissed, "Get away from him, you little bitch!" 

Ginny pointedly ignored her. 

Taking Draco's hand, she repeated, "You're wrong, Harry. Draco hasn't lied to us. But that doesn't mean that others haven't been lying to him instead." She looked into Draco's eyes and he was surprised to see the stark fear on her face. It was pinched and white, and he almost didn't recognize her. 

"You must flee, Draco," she whispered. "You're in great danger." 

"W-w-what?" he stammered. 

Suddenly the sky darkened and the sun disappeared. A cold breeze descending upon the people and everybody stepped back, as if moved by a great force. The air had a black, ugly energy about it and those who felt it immediately sensed an imminent threat. Ginny cringed at the energy before her grip tightened on Draco's hand. 

"We have to get out of here," she said urgently. 

Without thinking, Draco pulled her towards him as the dark vibration surged forward, as if ready to strike. Ginny looked to be in a trance as she wrapped her arms around him and murmured a strange spell that Draco had never heard before. 

A soft, melodic hum began to emanate from the air immediately surrounding them and suddenly they were enveloped in a white, smoky haze. For several long seconds, nobody could see the couple within that swirl of foggy energy. 

And then, from seemingly nowhere, a great wind blew through the crowd and the smoke cleared. People craned their necks to get a look at the spot where Ginny Weasley and the Prince of Avalon had once stood. 

They'd simply disappeared. 

As if deprived of its very sustenance, the dark energy immediately withdrew from the crowd and they were all left there, blinking abruptly in the bright sunlight. They stared at the empty place within the center of the circle. 

The stillness was broken by an anguished scream and everybody turned to look at the ashen faced woman, lying prone on the grass. 

Blaise Zabini had fainted dead away. 

******************************** 

"Oh gods, Severus. I can't do this again. We can't do this again." 

Hermione and Severus were wrapped around each other, safely tucked in their own bed, in their own room. After the strange events of the day, they'd barely had time to process what had happened. The only thing that was certain was that Draco Malfoy had fled his wedding and now the country was in danger of moving into anarchy. They'd spent the better part of the evening calming Arddun, as she had been particularly troubled by what had happened that day. They'd finally managed to get her to bed and the House Elves had vowed to take turns watching over her during the night. 

Severus let out a long, audible sigh. "You felt it as well as I did, my love," he said. "That horrible energy . . . I haven't felt such a malevolent, evil presence since . . . " 

"Since Voldemort." 

Severus nodded. "But this was different somehow. I sensed a great anger coming from it, especially when the Prince disappeared. That anger and hatred was directed at Draco and Draco only. I have no idea what this means, or where Ginny Weasley fits into all of this, but you can be sure that I'll find out." 

Hermione shook her head sadly. "I'd so gotten used to an uncomplicated existence. I don't know if I have the energy for this, Severus." He drew her closer and kissed the top of her head. 

"Of course you do, my dear. You have no choice, in any case." He lifted her chin to look at him and she could see the calm acceptance in his eyes. 

"It appears that we have another fight on our hands," he continued, in a soothing voice. "But we can get through anything. We've proven that, haven't we? Besides, no matter what happens, you will always be my shelter and my safe haven, as I am yours. As long as we're together, we can endure anything." 

Hermione was moved by his words and she leaned in to kiss him fiercely. 

"You're right, my love," she murmured, as she felt their son kicking within her belly. "Together, we're unstoppable." 

Severus smiled as he pulled her closer. "Whatever comes our way, Hermione, we'll deal with it." 

Hermione nodded and turned to her side as Severus moved in to snuggle her closer. Murmuring words of love to each other, they molded their bodies together in a tight embrace. The last thing Hermione felt before falling asleep was his warm breath on her neck. 

It was the most comforting feeling in the world. 

THE END 

***************************************** 

Author's Note: Well, there you have it folks! I have such mixed feelings about completing this story. It's been a big part of my life for the last six months and I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed the creative process. I enjoyed it so much, that I'm writing a sequel. 

"The Prince of Avalon" will be coming to this site sometime in mid to late summer. I know that's a long wait, however, I would like to take time to read "Order of the Phoenix" before starting on this new story. I'm sure there will be things in that book that will shape the details of the sequel. Besides . . . I truly need a break! There are other stories I'd like to read, but just haven't had the time. 

And to everybody who has reviewed: (most especially to those who reviewed faithfully) . . . thank you so very, very much. You all were was so kind and encouraging, I really appreciate it. For those of you who especially loved the story, remember that the sequel is coming! It will cover the years immediately following The Final Battle, up to the "almost wedding" depicted in this story . . . and beyond! It's not over for Draco and Ginny. 

Not by a long shot. 

And Elizabeth will be with me for the sequel. I'm so happy about that! She's the best beta a "writer" could ask for. Thank you, girlie! 

  



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